


dreaming away the cold of winter

by khrysallis



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7465785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khrysallis/pseuds/khrysallis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A career, public recognition, and an upcoming marriage to the General's daughter - Wu Yifan has everything one can possibly wish for, when they're freshly out of a devastating war. Then comes the mysterious Zhang Yixing, who teaches him that life isn't about fearing authority and blindly obeying commands; it's about chasing after what your heart desires the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dreaming away the cold of winter

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings (please take these seriously!):** hint of societal homophobia and post-traumatic stress disorder. past underaged consensual sexual relationship. brief mentions of child prostitution, hint of past non-con, mental, physical and emotional abuse. 
> 
> **a/n:** A million thanks to Sarah, who held my hand through this and brainstormed part of the plot with me. I've always been fascinated by various aspects of Chinese culture, and I suppose Yixing's new drama kind of sparked this idea in me. Also inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/KpopComplex/status/683005902027239424) edit by @KPopComplex (thank you!). Section headers are part of the lyrics of 'Wild' by Troye Sivan, with a special interlude by Taeyeon's 'Secret'. I hope you'll enjoy this!
> 
> If you're interested to have some music while reading, here's the playlist I put together: [click!](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJO1tlwxPYL3LC7SH40irWzce_UTaXI5D)
> 
> (By the way, all names have been changed to their Chinese spelling for the sake of consistency. And!! Try and guess the plot twist, lol. Don't cheat by scrolling to the end. A glossary of terms used in the fic can be found in the **end notes**!)

_trying hard not to fall  
on the way home  
you were trying to wear me down, down_

 

The bustling city of Shanghai is something Wu Yifan is still trying to get used to, and he sighs in despondency when he strolls onto the main street from a smaller alley that leads from his residence. No matter how beautiful the colonial buildings that line its avenues are, he's distracted from it all by the large crowd that walks through the streets of Shanghai on a daily basis, the city remaining busy still even as the night grows deep. That, and the fact that everyone would pause to stare, no matter subtly or overtly like that old man who's seated in the coffee shop and sipping on his drink, eyes unblinking as he follows after Yifan's figure. Shanghai is beginning to adopt the lack of mannerisms from their Beijing counterparts; no one seems to remember that it's rude to stare.

Wu Yifan knows why, though; he's been told of the reason many times by now, both by close acquaintances and absolute strangers alike. Standing at an impressive height of six feet two, Yifan towers over almost everyone else, save for his superior Zheng Yunhao and the senior colonel of another battalion, Pu Canlie, who are almost of the same height. He's the victim of too many inside jokes in the army, all wondering why Yifan hasn't fallen prey to stray bullets on the battlefield just yet, or became the target board of the enemy's snipers, for the sheer reason that his head is much too easy to spot when they're within firing range. Laypeople, on the other hand, are intimidated because of his height, but he's also not deaf to the poorly-concealed whispers and silent discussions about his strong jawline, defined eyebrows, and overall handsome appearance. 

He doesn't let all of these get to his head, though, knowing that being too prideful would carve the beginnings of a bitter ending. Yifan isn't one to crave for such attention, either, preferring to instead blend into the background – or the crowd – and stay out of sight, a feat which he still hasn't managed to achieve as of yet. 

Sometimes, it's not necessarily a good thing to stand out this much. Not for Yifan, at least. 

Another sigh escapes his lips when a lady in a _qipao_ with a daringly low cut winks at him seductively as she walks towards him, but he musters a polite smile in response regardless. _I'm not interested_ , he wants to say, but Yifan holds his tongue because he would come off as assuming. Thankfully, the lady passes him by without making unnecessary, scathing comments like the ones he's received on the rare occasion, when the ladies are feeling a little bolder. He would rather not receive even more attention than he already does.

He decidedly focuses on his surroundings once more, and finds himself glancing around in wonder, always like the first time he had stepped out of the train station and onto the streets of Shanghai with nothing but a suitcase in hand. Shanghai is a city where traditional and modern come together in a large melting pot of cultural exchange, with people dressed in _qipao_ s and Western dresses and _changshan_ s and suits alike, cars driving through roads filled with humans and rickshaws and bicycles, creating a stark contrast that's telling of the disparity in wealth, of the people who are resistant against the Western influence, and those who are more than happy to embrace it with open arms. It's busy and lively in ways that Beijing isn't, even after the war had torn through it, and Yifan isn't sure if he likes the change.

Carefully toeing his way through the late evening crowd and the boisterous rickshaw drivers who are ploughing through the streets to get their customers to their destinations, Yifan shakes his head wistfully and puts on his hat before heading towards the military headquarters, ignoring the continuous stares he's getting at the single star with a semi-circle wreath displayed on his shoulder board.

 _It's only temporary,_ he reminds himself, _merely until my personal mission has been fulfilled_ , and promptly feels marginally better.

 

╫

 

At the tender age of twenty nine, Wu Yifan is considered a very successful person, having been promoted to Major General before he even turns thirty, owing to his superb skills at leading his battalion to victory against the Japanese army in the Second World War. He has his fair share of scars marring his skin to attribute to his success in Guangxi, but Yifan would rather not brag about it. He's not proud of the lives he's taken, the amount of blood he's spilled to get to where he stands right now. It's not like he has a choice, though, having been enlisted in the military from young, and the last two years he's spent in a leadership position is more a curse than a blessing.

He can't even begin counting the lives of his comrades he's sacrificed in the progress – all necessary, because they can't possibly be carrying their injured comrades while they flee from the Japanese onslaught. Yifan says a silent prayer for them, hoping that he will be forgiven – eventually. 

It's also why Yifan never feels comfortable when he's being discussed about over dinner, even if those who are seated at the table are his comrades who have fought the war _with_ him. He has to bear with it, though, because army officers never do have anything else to talk about apart from the war, reliving gory memories which are supposed to be better off forgotten, buried in the deepest depths of their conscious minds. Anything at all to earn them a night of peaceful sleep. 

This evening is no different. A wealthy merchant by the name of Wang Jiaer has taken upon himself to throw a congratulatory party for Yifan's sake, to celebrate his promotion to Major General. News travel fast in Shanghai, it seems, even with such a huge population of people where Yifan had wanted to lie low in the meantime before his eventual transfer back to Beijing where he truly belongs, and soon enough, various merchants and businessmen are already knocking on Yifan's door, proffering him invites to lavish dinners and drinking parties which Yifan would very much prefer to stay away from. It's, after all, good business to strike a deal with any military officer of high ranking these days, when the nation is still reeling from the aftereffects of a Great War and then some. As it is, his head is already hurting from the amount of alcohol and the continuous chatter that floods the table. Wang Jiaer is a nice man, but he is simply talking too much for Yifan's liking right now. 

He's going to have to talk to Luhan about coercing him into accepting these dinner party invitations. 

"Yifan? Are you feeling alright?" A soft voice, distinctively female, cuts into Yifan's thoughts just then, much too close to his ear for comfort. Yifan nearly flings the arm which has circled around his off of him, the gesture much too intimate and too intrusive for his taste, until he remembers just in time that he's here at tonight's dinner party with Wang Feifei, his fiancée, and barely stops himself from doing something offensive. 

Wang Feifei is by no means a simple woman, being the daughter of one of the Generals in the army, with the brains and the beauty to boot. She is the epitome of elegance at this very moment, when Yifan turns to look at her with a smile and sees her powder blue _qipao_ -clad figure, her long hair swept up into a loose bun and her posture befitting of royals, should they still exist. Yifan notes that she has chosen the hairpin he'd bought for her as a gift, with sapphire crystals dangling from its end, and he wonders what he's done to deserve a woman of Feifei's calibre. 

Even with the knowledge, though, it doesn't make Yifan any more comfortable being in such close proximity with Feifei, in full view of a large crowd, no less. He's met her for a grand total of six times in the last two weeks, having only been formally introduced to her when he had first set foot in Shanghai upon returning from Guangxi. An arranged marriage, offered to Yifan on a silver platter by none other than Feifei's father himself, one that's approved by Chairman Mao, for the sheer reason that Yifan should immerse himself in the ranks of those with the power to rule the country, to aid his promotion to General in the foreseeable future, if he should help the Party to win the war against the Kuomintang. He can't possibly say 'no' to it. For one, it's an attractive offer, to aid his already-struggling family to live a better life after the war; and for two, his head would probably be rolling on the ground the exact moment he declines, for disobeying orders from his superior. That's how it is – an _order_ under the guise of an arranged marriage. 

Yifan can't even tell anyone that the mere idea of it makes him sick in the gut, despite knowing that Feifei is a good catch, that many a man would die to be in his place. 

In that sense, Yifan doesn't even know if he should call himself lucky, when he's soon to be involved in a loveless marriage.

"'m fine," he slurs for extra effect, pretending that he's already drunk from all the alcohol they've been feeding him with, when in fact his tolerance is much greater than this. "Had a little too much to drink, I think." 

Thankfully, Feifei doesn't look remotely offended when Yifan pulls his arm out of her grasp to wipe his face down, merely smiling sweetly at him like a fiancée should. If there's one thing about Feifei that unsettles him, it's the fact that Yifan doesn't exactly know if she's actually fine about being in an arranged marriage with a near-total stranger, if she already has another man she loves in her life before Yifan had walked in and destroyed the happiness she had been looking forward to having with said man. She is simply _that_ good at hiding her true feelings behind her smile. 

"Should I call for a glass of water on your behalf?" She asks again, to the catcalls of his other comrades who are all gushing drunkenly about how she's the perfect wife material, and Yifan has to force himself to grin as though he's actually happy and nod in response to her question.

One step at a time, he guesses.

 

╫

 

Yifan tips his fedora backwards slightly as he looks up at the building before him, and a shudder runs through him when he's greeted by the sight of a banner sporting a rather vicious-looking painted mask. It's nothing he's ever seen before, these masks, having lived out of the country for years only to return when he had made the decision to serve the military, and while somewhat intimidated by it, Yifan's curiosity is also piqued.

"The Tian Chan Theatre," a voice next to him says, and Yifan turns to look at the man who had brought him here. Jin Junmian is a good head shorter than Yifan is, impeccably well-dressed in a tailored suit and a waistcoat beneath, his smile polite and complexion almost as fair as the winter snow. It paints a stark contrast between them. Then again, Junmian had managed to escape from being conscripted into the military with his family's immense wealth, working as a businessman that dealt with international trade, and was thus exempt from having to face the more horrible things in life, much to Yifan's envy.

The years they've spent battling the Japanese forces is something Yifan would not ever want to relive, if he had the choice. The amount of cruelty exhibited by the Japanese makes his stomach churn, even now. 

Earlier that afternoon, Junmian had extended an invitation for Yifan to come to the theatre with him. _There's a good play running tonight_ , he had said, _it depicts the tale of Xiang Yu and Lady Yu, but the style of the play might not be something you're accustomed to in the West._

In retrospect, Yifan isn't sure how Junmian had discovered a part of his past which is virtually unknown to everyone else apart from his family and closest allies in the army, but he decides that they're bound to dig up every single piece of information known about Yifan and his interests for the sake of making their lives easier. Yifan isn't one who'd accept bribes this easily, monetary or otherwise, but he finds his curiosity piqued at Junmian's elaborate explanation about _jīngjù_. For one, Junmian seems to have great interest in the mechanics of the Peking opera; no one would have been able to describe things in such great detail through work of memory alone, and would require an immense amount of passion for the subject to actually remember them. Besides, Junmian proves himself to be a good enough companion, and much more genuine in his intentions than the rest of the merchants who have approached Yifan thus far. He's beginning to get sick of the nightly dinner parties and drinking sessions right after, and waking up in the morning with yet another serious bout of hangover is the last thing Yifan would like to experience again. At least this evening will be a fresh change of routine. 

Yifan makes a small hum of acknowledgement at Junmian's earlier statement just then. "Is this where the _jīngjù_ will be staged?" He asks. 

"Yes," Junmian smiles as he leads Yifan within, tipping his hat at the personnel manning the ticketing counter and exchanging some pleasantries. Yifan gathers that Junmian has been here often enough for the staff to have recognised him, and Junmian launches into another explanation of the place as they proceed to find their seats, upon getting tickets for both of them. "The interior might be a little intimidating, but it's still interesting enough. There are more painted masks decorating the hallway as we go."

The comment has Yifan smiling, and true to Junmian's words, Yifan finds more painted masks of various colours and varieties lining the corridor, some as vicious looking as the one he had seen at the entrance, others with faces of popular folklore characters which Yifan actually recognises, such as one that belongs to Sun Wukong. "You seem to know this place very well."

"Indeed. I would make my way here whenever they put on a show," Junmian admits with an embarrassed laugh, rubbing at his nape awkwardly. "There is a _huadan_ here who is a good friend of mine, whom I'd like you to meet after this."

" _Huadan_?" Yifan echoes aloud, and the confusion must have been clear in his words, for Junmian bursts out laughing in the very next moment, the corner of his eyes crinkling in genuine amusement.

"Looks like I'll have a lot of explaining to do, Major General Wu."

 

╫

 

Despite having been hit by cultural shock in the beginning of the opera piece, by virtue that Yifan has never seen something of such magnitude, he actually learns to like _jīngjù_ by the end of the show. Sure, his understanding of Chinese history isn't as strong as expected for someone of his rank, but Yifan thinks that this might be a motivating factor for him to actually educate himself more on the cultural aspects of his birthplace. It was spectacular, like Junmian had said it would be, even though he had some trouble following the hidden meaning behind every gesture and the use of props, and Yifan finds his heart reaching out for Lady Yu and her valiant love for Xiang Yu even in the face of adversity.

Above all, however, Yifan finds himself attracted to the graceful way the _huadan_ who plays the role of Lady Yu moves, and the sweetness of her voice when she sings her lines, despite the fact that Yifan finds the voice of the other actors and actresses a bit shrill and jarring to his ears. He doesn't understand how the _huadan_ can move around so effortlessly on stage, even though the heavily embroidered robes on her back must weigh a lot, but he's no less enraptured by her performance. The _huadan_ 's gaze is strong, confident, and whenever Yifan meets her eyes through the crowd, he finds himself feeling a little bit more breathless, his pulse quickening beneath his skin, his attention rapt on the stage whenever the _huadan_ would appear. 

And so engrossed he is with the performance that Yifan doesn't even realise it's over until someone hesitantly taps on his shoulder to get his attention, which makes Yifan jump at the contact out of surprise. It's only then that he notices he's on his feet like the rest of the crowd, both his palms warm from clapping along for an extended period of time, and Yifan blinks, dazed. He's not even sure when he had joined the standing ovation, but the air rushes back into his lungs in a quick gush when he returns to reality. Junmian is grinning smugly at him when Yifan remembers the touch on his shoulder and turns to his right to acknowledge it, as if silently telling him _I told you you'd enjoy the show tonight_. Frankly, Yifan would not refute that, either. 

"How did you like the show?" Junmian asks once the crowd has thinned out after the cast have all returned backstage, leaving the hall of the theatre now quiet enough for him to speak without having to shout over the noise.

The ghost of the music from the opera still rings in his ears, and Yifan thinks he might be able to see the entire play at the back of his eyelids if he closed his eyes. It's simply _that_ memorable. "It's amazing," he replies with a smile, his words sounding winded even to himself. It only serves to make Junmian grin even wider, and Yifan can tell Junmian's very pleased with himself for successfully converting Yifan into a fan of _jīngjù_. "Nothing like I've ever seen before. It's a bit..."

"Noisy? Overwhelming?" Junmian completes his sentence for him when Yifan gets stuck on a proper word to say, to which Yifan grins sheepishly. He's only glad that Junmian doesn't seem offended, and he wonders if Junmian had thought of _jīngjù_ in the same way, at first. He did mention to Yifan that _jīngjù_ is an acquired taste, but perhaps there are instances where its viewers fall in love at first sight. "Yes, the accompaniment might be too much for those who have just been exposed to the genre, but you'll learn to get used to it in time. If–" he pauses, suddenly unsure. "–of course, you'd like to watch it still."

"That is one offer I will not refuse," Yifan reassures him. Suddenly he's glad he hadn't taken Feifei up on her advice to give _jīngjù_ a miss; he'd invited her along on his and Junmian's meeting this morning, only to be turned down with a scrunch of her nose. _I'm not interested_ , she had told him, _it's a form of entertainment for the older generation; dull and noisy_ , but Yifan honestly thinks otherwise. Perhaps Feifei is too close-minded to appreciate the beauty of this art form, busying herself with chasing after the Western way of life instead, but Yifan isn't going to stop watching these plays just because Feifei isn't interested. 

"Would you like to come backstage with me?" Junmian suddenly offers when Yifan gathers his coat and fedora in his arms, and Yifan pauses, raising an eyebrow at Junmian questioningly. Junmian doesn't stall with his explanation. "To meet my friend, I mean. Remember when I told you I am acquainted with a _huadan_ in the troupe? It's the one who played the role of Lady Yu."

And Yifan's pulse races yet again, remembering the dainty hand gestures and graceful steps the _huadan_ had displayed, the magnetism of the _huadan_ 's gaze as she smiles at the audience, enrapturing them with her performance. He's already agreeing without giving it further thought, even though he knows it might potentially invite malicious gossip in the long run, especially when he's engaged to the daughter of General Wang. But Yifan talks himself into going along with Junmian regardless, telling himself that this is a one-off meeting which will not turn into anything more. It's but a simple meeting between the admirer of a form of art, and the artist who plays a great role in bringing the art form to life. 

He has great self-restraint, after all, and it would be easy for him to disentangle himself from everything else should the need arise. The military has taught him as much – form not deep attachments, for it will result in his own suffering in the end when he loses the things he cherishes the most to the war. It's how Yifan had stayed relatively unaffected, even when he's lost some of his closest acquaintances to the war. 

Besides, it's not as though Yifan's interested in the _huadan_ in a different way – not a woman. 

Yifan doesn't know what he's expecting to find behind the thick layer of white-and-pink paint on the _huadan_ 's face, but it definitely isn't the one that greets him the moment Junmian brings him through the doors of the dressing room. The person who's seated in the chair before the dressing table, still dressed in Lady Yu's outfit from the penultimate scene of the play before her ultimate demise, possesses a serene look as the paint on _her_ skin comes off in gradual layers to reveal a face that is decidedly very _male_ , the wig he'd worn for the play sitting on a mannequin's head to his left. 

None of that matters, though, when the man turns around in his seat upon seeing Junmian's reflection in the mirror, and beams brilliantly at them. Yifan practically finds the last of his breath knocked out of him by the dimple on the man's right cheek, and he honestly is at a loss for words, when the man's naturally pink lips curls up into a gentle smile the moment his attention falls upon Yifan. 

Junmian seems to have picked up on his daze, though, and nudges Yifan with his elbow to regain his attention. "What's wrong, Major General Wu? You seem... bewildered." His grin is very much amused, evidently having predicted Yifan to have such a response; Yifan rather wishes a hole would open up in the ground and swallow him whole instead. _Had_ he missed a major part of Junmian's explanation while he had been talking about the role of a _dan_ in the opera? 

Yifan splutters in embarrassment when he realises belatedly that the man's gaze is still fixed upon him expectantly, his head tilted to the side in silent amusement. "I– uh, I was under the impression that all _dan_ were women–" 

The man, still seated in his chair as he wipes off the last of the paint caked on his skin with a damp towel, actually laughs aloud at Yifan's comment. The sound is tinkling, soft, and absolutely _devastating_. How could one person so small possess such an overwhelming presence in a room this crowded? "Technically speaking, all _dan_ represent the womenfolk in a play, but many of them are played by men. Myself included. Women were banned from performing in _jīngjù_ in the past, but all that has changed, the ban lifted more than thirty years ago. It still is a male-dominated area, though," he explains, and oh, his voice is as soothing as his singing had been on stage, with a hint of a southern accent that's all too familiar to Yifan. Yifan's _really_ curious. "Did Junmian not tell you this? I'd expected more of him, considering his penchant for telling others about our trade. He usually does a much better job than this." 

Junmian's response is in the form of a teasing laugh which makes Yifan feel even sillier, his cheeks burning hot from embarrassment. "It was a deliberate concealment. It's always interesting to see the reactions of the people I end up introducing to you, when they are unfamiliar with this form of art and its rich history; many are convinced that you are a woman. I'm sure Major General Wu here is the same."

Wanting to salvage what's left of his pride, though, Yifan dips his head and offers a sincere smile at the other man. "That would mean that you make a very convincing woman. Would it not be a reassurance of your acting abilities, when you successfully fool everyone else into thinking that you are of the fairer sex?" 

Yifan manages to win another hearty laugh from the smaller man, and his heart thumps hard when the man looks up and holds his gaze, the amusement and interest clear as daylight in his bright eyes. "Your friend here certainly has his way with words, Junmian," he tells Junmian, but not once does his gaze wander from Yifan's face. Yifan's almost taken aback when the man rises to bow at him in favour of a handshake, and realises that he's probably a very traditional person, having lived with this form of art for years. "It is definitely in my greatest pleasure to meet you, Major General Wu. I apologise if I have been rude for not introducing myself earlier, but my name is Zhang Yixing."

Yifan's breath gets caught in his throat at the intensity of Yixing's gaze when he looks up at Yifan through his lashes, but he manages a weak, "Just 'Yifan' is fine," feeling glad when his voice doesn't crack under the pressure. 

The radiant smile Yixing wears when he reaches forth to shake Yifan's outstretched hand later is absolutely blinding.

 

╫

 

Yifan tags along with Junmian to several more shows at the Tian Chan Theatre after his initial dabble with _jīngjù_ , finding it fascinating in every way possible, and he grows accustomed to the loud accompaniment in due time, too. Junmian always accommodates him with a warm smile, delighted that he's found a fellow enthusiast in Yifan, considering the fact that none of the others whom Junmian had brought to the opera with him had been interested enough to go with him for the second, third time.

At least, Junmian isn't like the other merchants Yifan has to deal with on a daily basis. He doesn't force his business proposals onto Yifan like many others do, instead appreciating Yifan's presence like a true friend does, only speaking about his business plans when Yifan's the first to initiate the subject. There is no rush in the way Junmian interacts with him, all sincere words and even more sincere smiles, and Yifan begins to wonder if he can truly, safely call Junmian his only friend in Shanghai, where Yifan's surrounded by unfamiliar faces that seem to love crowding around him, vying for Yifan's attention, if only because of Yifan's rank in the army and the perks they'll be able to reap off him if they manage to gain his favour. 

Of course, Yifan will not admit to this, but he would always look forward to the end of each night's showing, because Junmian would never fail to bring Yifan along with him to the dressing rooms after the other members of the audience have left the theatre. Yifan has learned by then that Junmian has a habit of congratulating Zhang Yixing personally for a great show every single time, and Yixing would be more than glad to receive them in the dressing room no matter how tired he is from performing, smile ever so radiant whenever he greets them.

Whenever Yixing and Junmian fall into familiar conversation in the dressing room, though, telling each other excitedly about their day and their new experiences, Yifan would slink into a corner of the room just within earshot, sitting himself on the settee and pretending to rest his eyes, when in reality he's listening in on Junmian and Yixing's conversation, picking up on Yixing's interests along the way. He would rarely ever join in on their conversations unless invited, because he feels terribly out of place whenever they talk about someone Yifan has absolutely no knowledge about. It's obvious that Yixing and Junmian have been acquainted for a very long while, and it would be extremely awkward for Yifan to talk to them as though he isn't someone Yixing had only very recently gotten to know. 

At times like these, though, Yifan is more than contented to be able to quietly listen to the soft lilt of Yixing's voice, and the tinkling melody of his laughter, both differing greatly from the confident image Yixing projects on stage, when his face is hidden behind thick layers of paint. There's really nothing more soothing than this.

 

╫

 

_white noise in my mind  
won't calm down  
you're all I think about_

 

It's on a warmer day of autumn that Junmian extends an invitation to Yifan, to join him on an afternoon tea party at the Yuyuan. Yifan agrees in a heartbeat, if only because he perceives Junmian as a good friend of his by now, and decides it would be a good idea to bring Feifei along with him.

Almost everyone of importance in Shanghai has heard of Yifan's engagement to Feifei by now, and it's an occasion which finds its way to everyone's lips a lot more often than Yifan would have otherwise liked, but it's not like he has a choice to hide it from public knowledge, when General Wang is such a prominent figure in Shanghai. It's more prudent for them to follow after the Chairman's orders, when execution for insubordination lies on the other side of the spectrum. It doesn't take much intelligence for anyone to pick their poison at all. 

Junmian decidedly has an eye for a good atmosphere; Yifan discovers this as he strolls around the compound of the Wanhua Chamber. True to its name, Wanhua Chamber is decorated with delicate wooden carvings, painted beams and columns, and its overhanging roofs and open traceries are carved with tens upon thousands of motifs depicting the Four Noble Plants of their nation. There's a small stream running past the building, its surroundings nothing but scenic, and its various courtyards are planted with the majestic bamboo surrounding them almost completely, leaving behind an air of mystery. It's a place Yifan wouldn't mind taking a walk around more often.

Of course – Yifan would never admit to this – another reason why Yifan had agreed to Junmian's invitation was because Junmian had mentioned that there would be a troupe of performers putting on a short _jīngjù_ piece for the guests. Naturally Yifan is interested; considering Junmian's friendship with Yixing, he supposes Yixing would be a part of the performance troupe, because Yixing would never turn a friend's request down, if the things Yifan has learned about Yixing over the last couple of weeks is anything to go by. 

The pang of disappointment which hits Yifan is overwhelming, however, when he belatedly realises that none of the _dan_ in the piece are played by Yixing. By now, Yifan is already well-versed with Yixing's performances, having watched his shows countless times, and in different repertoires put up at the Tian Chan Theatre. Yixing possesses distinctive gestures which sets him apart from the rest of the performers, a particularly strong and memorable gaze as he engages the audience that becomes teasing and mischievous at times, as well as a sweet singing voice that lures everyone into his charm. It's what makes Yixing such a popular figure amongst the _jīngjù_ enthusiasts, after all. None of the _dan_ performing that day appealed to Yifan in particular, and he walks away feeling a little more dejected than he's really supposed to. 

He tries hard to remind himself that Yixing doesn't owe anyone a favour, attempts to convince himself that Yixing might have turned Junmian's invitation down because he's exhausted from performing night after night after night, and promptly feels marginally better than he had been several moments ago. 

Then again, trust Feifei to be able to detect the distinct change in Yifan's expressions, when she lands a gentle touch on Yifan's arm and leans in to ask, "Are you feeling alright? You seem a little pale." 

The way Feifei is encroaching on his personal space makes Yifan squirm; she doesn't believe in keeping a distance any longer, when they're both engaged, and would grasp every opportunity to play the role of a perfect fiancée whenever they're in public. Then again, Yifan doesn't know how he should let Feifei know that he would prefer to keep a respectable distance between them until they're officially married. There are already gossips flying about, that Yifan is already bedding Feifei before their wedding, and it leaves a sour taste in Yifan's mouth. Frankly, Yifan feels a little suffocated by Feifei's actions too, but he doesn't say it aloud. Feifei would very likely be offended. 

Instead, what Yifan _does_ say is: "I'm fine. Just suffering from a minor headache from the noise. I think I will need to get myself some fresh air away from here for a moment." He forces himself to smile, hoping he's convincing enough to get himself off the hook. 

The look on Feifei's face changes from enquiring to concern in a flash, telling Yifan that he's convincing enough, alright, but she's almost relentless when she asks: "Do you want me to come along with you?"

Yifan half-considers her request, before he casts a look at the crowd around them and catches sight of her father watching them keenly. In the end, Yifan merely shakes his head, patting Feifei's hand in reassurance. "There isn't a need for that. You should socialise with your father's acquaintances. He seems to be waiting for you." 

"Are you sure?" Feifei hedges again, and Yifan resists the urge to sigh.

What Yifan does instead is laugh in a carefree manner – as believable as he can manage, anyway – and gently nudges her along, his large hand on the small of her back, and he doesn't miss the shudder that wracks through her body. "Yes, I'm sure. I'll be back once my head clears up. Don't worry about me." 

She seems to melt against his touch, which Yifan is thankful for, and he stops short of pulling away when she goes on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. The low, appreciative whistle coming from the crowd around them and the satisfied smile on General Wang's lips doesn't go unnoticed by Yifan. At least he knows he's putting up a good enough act. 

"I'll see you around then. Don't get lost," Feifei teases, then she's off to join her father after sending Yifan a wink. 

Yifan feels a lot more liberated once he's able to tear himself away from the party crowd, soaking up the peace and quiet with a satisfied exhale. He hasn't seen Junmian yet, but he doesn't think much of it. Junmian is probably busy entertaining his more important guests, anyway, and Yifan will probably drop by to send his regards before he leaves, later. 

He wanders deeper into the Yuyuan's compound, and finds himself marvelling at the landscape around him. Whoever had built the Yuyuan was clearly ambitious and focused on making it as relaxing as they possibly can. Yifan smiles satisfactorily when he stumbles upon a gazebo situated by the pond, and while mildly surprised that no one else has set foot in this area by now, he isn't complaining. At least he'll have the place all to himself.

The leaves of the tree growing by the side of the gazebo have turned into brilliant shades of orange and red, reflecting the autumn season. Yifan's smile grows wider as he sticks a finger through the loop of his silk tie, tugging it loose and taking a deep gulp of fresh air, taking a seat on the stone bench erected within the gazebo. He's almost tempted to shrug off his jacket, too, but decides wisely against it in the end when a cool autumn breeze sweeps through the air, leaving goosebumps on his exposed skin. 

While Yifan's busy admiring the view, someone suddenly walks into his peripheral vision and _bows_ at Yifan, making him jolt in surprise. He hadn't heard anyone approaching the gazebo at all, which is an impressive feat considering the fact that the path leading up to the structure is laden with fallen leaves which would crunch beneath a person's weight when stepped on. Besides, after spending years being in the military, Yifan's ears are supposed to be sensitive enough to pick up even the slightest rustle of fabric or leaves in the air. 

Yifan inhales once again from shock when he raises his gaze and realises that _Yixing_ is smiling back at Yifan, evidently pleased with himself. 

Yixing is dressed in a simple white _changshan_ with red floral motifs printed upon it that morning, a huge contrast from the elaborate costumes of gold and silver which Yifan would usually see him in whenever he follows Junmian to the actors' dressing room. His soft hair is falling gently over his right eye, enticing Yifan to run his fingers through them, wanting to feel how silky it would be beneath the pads of his digits. It's definitely a refreshing change, one that makes Yifan's pulse speed up a little. 

Yixing is beautiful even in all his simplicity. 

"Aren't you supposed to be socialising with the rest of the guests, Major General Wu? They might order for a search party if they're unable to locate you. The Yuyuan isn't as small as it seems," Yixing cheekily comments, coming to stand by the balustrade beside Yifan. Yifan can see the dimple on Yixing's right cheek when he lifts his gaze, and it's a sure sign of his teasing. They're both well past the stage of using formal titles on each other, after all. 

"My presence is not of utmost importance, Yixing," he laughs, feeling truly at ease for the first time that morning. "I thought you weren't going to attend the party today. I didn't see you with the performance troupe." 

Yixing turns a little in his position to regard Yifan, and the mirth dancing in his eyes is poorly concealed. "I am here as Junmian's guest today, not as a performer. Did Junmian not tell you?" 

Yifan blinks at him. "Tell me what?" 

Again Yixing laughs, amused, the sound soothing in ways Yifan had never expected it to be. "I'm inclined to believe that Junmian intends to lead you into as many embarrassing situations as he possibly can, Yifan," he comments, and Yifan's thoroughly confused. 

Thankfully, Yixing isn't quite in the mood for games today, and launches into a detailed explanation for the sake of enlightening Yifan. By then, Yixing had learned that Yifan was schooled abroad for a couple of years before returning to China to serve in the military, and wasn't truly in touch with his Chinese roots. He doesn't tease, doesn't mock, merely invests an incredible amount of patience as he teaches Yifan about the things Yifan has missed out on. Something tells Yifan that Yixing would have made a great teacher, if he wasn't already attached to the theatre. 

"I do not mean to brag, but a _dan_ of my status would only perform in the Tian Chan Theatre, and nowhere else, unless ordered to by our troupe leader. Our asking price does not come cheap, unfortunately, and even merchants of great wealth such as Junmian cannot possibly afford to hire us for a private performance."

Yifan stops short of enquiring Yixing about his hiring fees, because he doesn't feel as though it's in his place to ask. Performers with the Shanghai Troupe are entitled to their own secrets, and Yifan would be more than glad to explore them at his own pace, _when_ and _if_ Yixing voluntarily offers the information in the future. He doesn't want to come off as a nosy person, because he's really not. 

Yifan indulges Yixing in a completely different subject matter instead. "I have not asked you this before, but you seem to be really close to Junmian. How did you two meet, exactly? As far as I know, none of the members of the audience are actually allowed to set foot in your dressing room. The guard at the door had told me. Said that I was lucky to have met Junmian."

His gaze follows Yixing as the man shuffles over to the stone bench across Yifan's and seats himself on it, fiddling with his slender fingers as he dredges up olden memories with a fond smile. "Junmian has always been a _jīngjù_ enthusiast, owing to his late father's interest in the art. We actually met after one of my very first shows at Tian Chan; Junmian had insisted on speaking to me backstage because my character had left the deepest impression in him. And you're right about the regulation; no one's allowed backstage unless you're with the troupe – until money is involved in the exchange, anyway." 

Yifan raises a brow at the implication behind Yixing's words. "You mean Junmian _bribed_ his way in?" He asks, surprised, and Yixing actually nods with an amused bark of laughter. Yifan tries not to drown in the dimple on Yixing's right cheek. 

"To put it crudely, he did. You can always buy your way through everything with money in Shanghai, especially now that the war is over and people are in need of a means to survive more than ever, and I suppose that's where Junmian had an extra advantage," Yixing smiles wistfully, probably reminiscing on his first meeting with Junmian. "Anyway, I told the stage hands to let Junmian pass whenever he pleases, _sans_ the payment. They hadn't been the happiest, the stage hands, since I'd cost them a healthy sum of extra money they would've otherwise obtained if Junmian paid his way through each time he wanted to, but they relented in the end. I still remember what Junmian had told me. _I really admire your ability at performing jīngjù, and would be very humbled if you would agree to be my friend._ Unconventional, but here we are." 

The revelation amuses Yifan to no ends. "You don't seem to have too high of a demand when it comes to making friends," he teases, and Yixing's smile is really starting to turn blinding in the mid-morning autumn sun. 

"Why is there a need to set boundaries? I'd welcome anyone at all to befriend me, especially if they're all _jīngjù_ enthusiasts," Yixing laughs, though he adds something else in a very low voice, evidently not wanting Yifan to hear him. "It can get rather lonely, when you're already dwarfed on a stage this huge."

Yifan hears it anyway, and swallows at the statement, even more so at the flash of loneliness that crosses Yixing's features, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. He doesn't let it show, though, keeping his smile intact when he asks, "Then, would you be willing to be my friend?"

Yixing's beam is as radiant as ever as he turns to look at Yifan, lighting up his gentle features. "I would be more than honoured to, Yifan."

 

╫

 

It's the beginning of October when Yifan finds himself in Feifei's company once again, this time voluntarily. There are only a handful of months left before the Lunar New Year rolls in, when their wedding ceremony would be held on the first day of February, and Feifei had wanted to search for a tailor to create her wedding dress, citing that the process of making the dress will take several months to complete. He's acutely aware of the stares they're getting as they stroll down the streets, Feifei's arm looped around his as she leans in impossibly close to whisper their conversation in his ear, but Yifan tries to get himself to become accustomed to it. After all, he'll have to live with these stares for many years to come, once he's married to Feifei and would earn himself a place amongst the elites.

Yifan had been a reluctant figure at first; not being actively involved in the planning of their wedding meant that he wouldn't have to think about it, could even pretend that it wasn't going to happen if no one else reminded him about it. Then again, he can't possibly turn Feifei's request down, and had agreed to it in the end. She'd be upset with him, and Feifei's temper is the last thing Yifan would like to experience. 

(He's seen the way she had yelled at a househelp. It was bordering on unpleasant.)

Besides, it's a good day out, when the autumn breeze is blowing gently in the air, the atmospheric temperature not too cold for them to enjoy the outdoors. Spending his day cooped up in his temporary residence would be a great waste. 

Feifei had rewarded him with a brilliant smile blossoming on her features, and for the first time since he's met her, he thinks she looks genuinely beautiful. 

They get to know each other better along the way, something which Yifan admittedly had been putting off from doing over the last couple of weeks, though it's mostly Yifan doing the asking and Feifei the one answering. He discovers that Feifei has dated several men over the years, but none of them appealed to her as much as Yifan does; most of them were after Feifei's inheritance it seems, and Yifan stops short of telling her that he was in the same league, intending to crawl his way up the military rankings through his future relationship with her father. It's like that for everyone, he supposes, to want to sink their fingers into things that benefit them the most. Selfish. Human nature. 

He doesn't know what Feifei is after, when she has all the freedom in the world to date men who suit her tastes better instead of marrying someone of her father's choice, but he certainly hopes she's not going after _love_. It's a rapidly dying concept, these days, when many a woman would flaunt their figures in _qipao_ s with a bold cut, luring men into spending money on them, while other men only seek these women out to fulfil their carnal desires. Societal decay had set in after the war, a defence mechanism for them to forget about the suffering they've had to live with for years, and it really is a difficult feat, trying not to get sucked into its lure. Yifan isn't exactly immune to it, either, and he's not proud to admit it.

While Yifan's about to tell Feifei of his family in Guangzhou, she cuts him off with a hand on his forearm and comes to a complete stop, throwing a gaze over her shoulder in confusion. Yifan narrows her eyes at her questioningly, because it isn't like Feifei to act like this. Hesitance isn't something Yifan would associate with Wang Feifei. "Is something the matter?" 

Feifei purses her painted lips in concentration. "I thought I heard someone calling your name."

It's Yifan's turn to be confused; there are only a handful of people who knew of his birth name. Most people would address him as Major General Wu, but they're currently on the streets. No one's courageous enough to approach him like this, when they have no idea how well he'll receive them. "You must be hearing things–" he starts to say, only to do a double take when he _does_ indeed hear someone calling out for him, and he glances around in search of the owner of the voice. 

His heart does a small leap when he realises it's actually _Yixing_ , and the man is currently enthusiastically waving from the distance as he tries to wade through the late morning crowd, his hands holding up the hem of his leaf-patterned brown _changshan_ to allow himself to take larger steps. Not wanting Yixing to exert himself too much, Yifan begins walking towards Yixing too in large strides, narrowing the distance between them. 

"Hello, fancy meeting you here. I was under the impression that you didn't like the outdoors much," Yixing's mildly breathless as he comes to a stop before Yifan, having met him midway, and his cheeks are tainted with a rosy shade of pink. The smile playing on his lips is as radiant as ever, and Yifan finds himself feeling a little lightheaded. It's curious, how someone can make him feel this way, but Yifan doesn't delve deeper into it. 

"Yes, it's nice to see you again, too," Yifan grins back at him, because what are the odds of actually bumping into Yixing on the streets of Shanghai? The theatre is ways off from here, and even though Yifan doesn't intend to look down upon Yixing's wealth, the locality is usually thronged by those who are more affluent, the goods sold in stores mostly imported from the Western nations with an equally expensive price tag to accompany them. Perhaps Yixing's here to visit someone who lives in the neighbourhood. Junmian, maybe. "It's a good day out; it would be a waste if I were to stay home." 

_Meeting you is an added perk_ , Yifan wants to say, but doesn't. 

"Indeed it is. Autumn in Shanghai is warmer than it has been in years, but I hope it doesn't spell a much colder winter," Yixing grins, and a small shudder wracks through his body as though he'd just tried to imagine the chill of winter. That's when Yixing tilts his head curiously to the side, trying to look past Yifan at someone who's standing behind him. "Oh? Just who might this lovely lady be?"

Yifan's awash with a pang of guilt when he remembers with a start that Feifei is there with him, and she had probably followed after him in confusion when Yifan had started in Yixing's direction. He steps back to fall in line with Feifei, before smiling at Yixing again. "This is Wang Feifei. She's–" 

He hesitates, though, when he needs to clarify Feifei's relationship with him. He's inclined to introduce Feifei to Yixing as his friend, but in those days, a lady of Feifei's standing would rarely be seen alone with a man on the streets. Even when they _do_ accompany a man in public, it would usually mean that they're in a courtship, if not as an escort. And, for some reason, Yifan can't seem to bring himself to let Yixing know that Feifei is his fiancée. He's not surprised that Yixing doesn't already know about them being engaged; Yixing did mention that he wasn't quite into mundane gossip, and would rather spend his time practicing his lines instead. 

In the end, Feifei, having grown impatient at Yifan's hesitance, takes over the task from Yifan. "I'm his fiancée. We're due to be married in February," she says bluntly, tone clipped, before shooting Yixing an almost scathing, "And who might _you_ be, to speak to the Major General in such an informal manner?" 

Yifan winces at Feifei's intonation, though it seems that Yixing hadn't sensed the threat in Feifei's voice. He's still all smiles, the perfect picture of the summer sun, when he replies Feifei. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Wang. My name is Zhang Yixing, and I am actually a performer with the Tian Chan Theatre. It's where Yifan and I had met, actually," he tells her, then bows respectfully at the both of them. "I should take my leave now. I'd hate to distract you from your errands any longer."

"Yes, please do. I hope to see you again," Feifei answers in Yifan's stead, and she surprises Yifan again when she wraps an arm around his waist, a clear show of possession, and it frankly makes Yifan uncomfortable. There is really no need for Feifei to resort to such actions, when Yixing isn't even female to begin with. It's baseless jealousy.

"Oh, before I forget–" Yixing mentions again before he takes his leave, and Feifei tenses up next to Yifan. "–Junmian asks if you'd like to join him at the theatre this Thursday. He apologises for having been rather busy as of late, and asked of me to pass the message on to you."

Feifei's expectant gaze is on him in a flash, and through the subtle narrowing of her eyes, it's as though she's challenging him to decline offer _or else_. Despite that, though, Yifan finds himself agreeing to the invitation. "Please let him know I'll see him on Thursday." 

The bright smile Yixing flashes at him at the affirmation makes his heart constrict, but he hopes Feifei doesn't notice it. 

"I can't believe you're allowing a lowly performer like _him_ address you by your birth name, instead of your official title like everyone else does," Feifei comments the moment Yixing's out of earshot, her eyes narrowing at Yixing's form as he turns around the corner and disappears into the early afternoon Shanghai crowd.

Something in Yifan bristles at the condescending intonation Feifei's employing, and he's sorely tempted to tell Feifei that he's had a very humble background before he had joined the military, too, that he had been like Yixing, once. Poor, but no less dignified. But he tries to keep himself calm as he tells her, "He is a _friend_ of mine, Fei, and he isn't a lowly performer in the troupe. You'd know if only you'd agree to come watch one of his performances with me."

Feifei merely looks at him as though Yifan had lost his mind, for being this defensive over someone of Yixing's status, before she heaves a sigh and stalks off in the direction where they had been headed towards before Yixing had interrupted them, but not after throwing an exasperated, "I don't even know why we're arguing over him," at Yifan. 

Yifan exhales and lowers his head to conceal the annoyance on his features, pretending to fix the fedora on his head instead as he follows after her, muttering _you were the one getting upset over trivial matters to begin with_ under his breath.

This, Yifan thinks, is where the economical divide sets them apart. Someone like Feifei who had been born into the arms of luxury will never know what it means to have to work hard for the things they want, but Yifan doesn't pursue the matter. What is the point, anyway?

 

╫

 

"Xing _ge_!" A loud voice greets him the moment he sees Junmian off, and Yixing isn't even given the opportunity to respond when a weight suddenly launches itself at him, arms curling around his neck and almost pulls him into a chokehold. "Why do you look so depressed!"

Laughing a little at the man's enthusiasm, Yixing pats fondly at his friend's arm as a signal for him to let go. "Calm down, Boxian. I'm fine."

Boxian only eases his hold on Yixing a little, leaning forward to look Yixing in the face. He's another _huadan_ like Yixing, with a grin that makes him appear more boyish than ever, even though he's only younger than Yixing by a couple of months. That, and his enthusiasm is really difficult to beat; Yixing doesn't think he's ever seen Boxian being unhappy, considering the circumstances surrounding their backgrounds. It's a good thing, Yixing supposes. You need to stay happy to stay afloat. 

"No, you're not," Boxian pokes at his cheek, and reels away laughing before Yixing can even lay his hands on the boy. "You don't seem as happy as you have been lately when Junmian _ge_ comes to visit. Is it because Major General Wu isn't here today?"

Yixing momentarily freezes at Boxian's question, wondering when the boy had grown so observant of him. There's some truth to Boxian's words, though; there was an undeniable pang of disappointment bubbling within him when Junmian had showed up at the entrance of the dressing room alone, his tall companion nowhere in sight. Yixing's sure Yifan had watched the show that evening, just as Yifan had promised; he's seen Yifan in the crowd, seated next to Junmian in their usual allocated spots, his eyes almost unblinking as he follows after Yixing's movements. And Yixing had been looking forward to meeting Yifan in person after the show, too. 

Now, Yixing isn't a narcissistic person, but he _knows_ when a member of the audience has their attention fully invested on him, the sensation manifesting as a slow crawl beneath his skin. Yifan, on the other hand, would always meet Yixing's gaze whenever Yixing lets his eyes sweep through the audience, and the impact always leaves him winded, even if Yixing doesn't let it show. 

Yixing isn't going to admit it to Boxian, either, and he chooses instead to playfully push Boxian's grinning face away from him. "Don't be silly, Boxian. You're reading way too much into things." He then casts a dirty look at Boxian who's still in his performance outfit, and smirks as he says, "If you're not going to change into normal clothing in the next five minutes, I'm going to leave you behind and head home without you." 

At the very least, it had Boxian going wide-eyed in panic and running off to change out of his performance outfit in the next couple of seconds, essentially getting him off Yixing's back – both literally and figuratively. Yixing isn't quite prepared to think about what his disappointment might mean just yet.

 

╫

 

_'cause there's still too long till the weekend  
too long till I drown in your hands  
too long since I've been a fool_

 

For the past week since Yifan had bumped into Yixing on the streets and had introduced Feifei to him, he'd avoided talking to Yixing, feeling guilty over what Feifei had said about him, and had even skipped out on meeting Yixing after his previous performance despite Junmian's insistence for him to tag along. He isn't sure if Yixing had heard Feifei at all, or if he'd sensed the underlying condescension in the tone Feifei had employed while speaking to him – and if he did, was Yixing offended?

Either way, it isn't something which Yifan could forgive himself easily for, when he could have stepped in and put his foot down to stop Feifei from saying something so unpleasant, but didn't. It isn't until Junmian had discovered the reason behind Yifan's continuous rejection of his invitations to watch Yixing's shows several days later, and had given Yifan a piece of his mind about the matter, that Yifan had finally gained the courage to apologise to Yixing personally. 

The way a broad smile had blossomed on Yixing's features the moment Yifan had asked him out for lunch at a nearby restaurant before his performance later that evening is really difficult to forget. Same goes to the way Yifan's pulse had raced, leaving him feeling warm deep within despite the mid-autumn chill, as he watches Yixing order for them, the bright smile still on his face as he engages the waiter in a friendly conversation.

Somehow, Yifan feels as though Yixing's friends with everyone in Shanghai – with those who aren't snobbish enough to snub Yixing, anyway. He wouldn't be surprised if it's indeed the truth; it's easy enough to get close to Yixing, when he seems to enjoy companionship from the others a lot. He won't turn away anyone who's there to offer their friendship to him, Yifan included. It's one of those things that Yifan likes about Yixing, for being so down to earth despite his fame in the _jīngjù_ scene. 

Nevertheless, before Yifan can even proceed to the main reason why he had asked Yixing out that afternoon, another man approaches their table and takes the empty spot which the waiter had just vacated, greeting Yixing like an old friend. "Well, if it isn't Zhang Yixing!" The man had exclaimed, causing them both to look up in surprise. 

For the longest moment, Yifan had thought that the man was another fan of Yixing's. He's suitably middle-aged, the wrinkles on his forehead beginning to show its prominence, and is dressed in an expensive tailored suit that seems to define those who would frequently watch a _jīngjù_ or two at the Tian Chan Theatre. After all, the tickets to these shows do not come cheap, and Yifan's only glad that he has the money to keep pursuing his newfound interest in the art form. 

That was until Yifan had stolen a glance at Yixing, who's still oddly silent despite the greeting, and noticed that while Yixing's looking directly at the man, he had stiffened in his seat, and the blood had all but drained from his face, leaving him paler still. It's only then that Yifan realises that Yixing is _terrified_.

The gentleman, who had been waiting expectantly for an answer from Yixing, smiles a little wider when he doesn't get one. "What's the matter, Yixing? Don't you remember me? You hurt me so."

The familiar – almost _intimate_ – way the man addresses Yixing makes even Yifan squirm in his seat, but at that particular moment, Yixing manages to croak out a timid, "Do you mind? I have company."

That's when the man seems to come to a realisation that _Yifan_ is seated at the table with Yixing, and he raises an interested brow when he manages to recognise Yifan. "Why, Yixing. I see you have found yourself quite the influential person to attach yourself to. The experience you gained at _The House_ serves you well, even now," he then tells Yixing, who has turned impossibly pale by now, and Yifan can see the way Yixing's hands are shaking as he grips onto the edge of the table, his knuckles white from the sheer force of it. It's almost as though Yixing's trying to hold the pieces of himself together by doing so.

To make matters worse, the man is either completely oblivious to the discomfort he's causing Yixing, or he simply doesn't care, because it doesn't stop him from talking even when Yixing doesn't honour him with a reply. "I have a proposition – why don't you accompany me for the night, for old time's sake? I rather missed you, after spending so much time in Guangxi being away from you, and it's not often that I come to Shanghai for business–" 

He almost reaches forward to touch Yixing's face when Yifan senses that something is horribly wrong. Yifan immediately gets up from his seat, rattling the chinaware already set on the table, and grabs hold of the man's wrist, applying just enough pressure to serve as a stern warning to the man. "I think that is quite enough, sir. Yixing doesn't seem to know you, and I assume you have recognised me. I believe you know better than to offend a high ranking military personnel like me," Yifan growls in a low voice, catching the surprise on Yixing's features from the corner of his eyes. 

At that, the man finally backs off, pulling his wrist out of Yifan's grip and gingerly rubbing away the soreness left behind by Yifan's fingers. He's flushed bright red down to his neck, a sure sign of being embarrassed by Yifan's attempt at humiliating him, when most eyes in the room are trained upon their table, wondering what would unfold next. At times like these, Yifan's actually glad that most people know of his ranking in the army, and he uses it to his maximal advantage. 

It doesn't, however, stop the man from throwing a mocking, "You got lucky this time," at the still-shivering Yixing before he disappears from sight with his servants hot on his heels. 

Their food arrives just then, the waiter from before eyeing them both warily when he senses the tense atmosphere surrounding them, and Yifan takes a seat before his temper gets the better of him and coerces him into chasing after the man to teach him a severe lesson. He hates it when someone resorts to intimidation to incite fear in others, and would try to avoid doing the same things himself. 

It soon becomes clear to Yifan that for whatever reason, Yixing is shaken to the core by his encounter with the strange man, when he picks up his chopsticks but doesn't even touch his food, his gaze completely unfocused. Yifan sighs and decides to call it a day, offering to take Yixing back to the theatre if he's lost his appetite to eat. Yixing only nods numbly in agreement, then spaces out for the rest of their journey back. He doesn't even realise that they've returned to his dwelling much later, until Yifan had nudged him in the shoulder and offered to unlock the door for him. 

As he watches Yixing enter his home in a dazed manner, he decides that he doesn't like seeing this side of Yixing at all – the fear and vulnerability seems to have taken over the place of his usual confidence and warm smiles, leaving behind only a fragile shell – and is determined to not let the same thing happen to Yixing again, if he can help it.

 

(Later that night, as he watches Yixing perform his usual routine without a single slip-up nor letting his distraction show, Yifan wonders how Yixing could pretend that nothing had happened at all.)

 

╫

 

_Cold, calloused fingers run down the side of his bare arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and he swallows hard when the man presses in close enough for him to taste the staleness of the man's alcoholic breath. It's revolting._

_The lace of the dress he's forced to put on is scratchy against his skin, one of its sleeves having been torn off when the man had chased after him in his twisted idea of a game. The press of the man's lips against his neck, against the exposed skin of his chest is still fresh on his mind, and his skin crawls with the itch to scrub himself clean multiple times over, until his skin is red and tender and raw, just like all the other times other men have touched him like this._

_"Do you know how beautiful you are, lying here on the bed like the good boy you are and being so submissive for me?" The man hums, licking yet another disgusting stripe up his neck and stopping to blow at his ear, making him shudder from the mixture of hot and cold. He wants to move, wants to escape from this room, but what is a boy like him to do when a grown man is pressing him down against the bed, keeping his arms pinned on either side of him?_

_Not for the first time, he wonders if he'll ever get away from this miserable life. If there'll be a man who would treat him rough enough to break him and kill him off for good, when they're much too excited from having fun with him, with his body. He's heard of the news, of other boys in the establishment who'd lost their lives from being choked, from being battered over and over and over again with sickening methods of torture until their bodies caved in on them – all deaths swept under the rug, only circulated amongst the mouths of those living in the House in quiet whispers. He wishes he could be like them. Perhaps then, he won't have to suffer from the internal agony which would always drive him to the brink of insanity the moment he's left alone but never really letting him fall off that precarious cliff._

_A frightened whimper escapes his abused lips when the man spreads his legs wide open without warning, practically ripping the material of his underrobes off of him. Like always, he wants desperately to cover himself up in shame, when his puckered hole is exposed for the taking and his cock curling in betrayal towards his stomach, but can't. The man's grip on his wrists is unrelenting._

_"So beautiful," the man coos again, and the little boy shouts out in pain when the first digit breaches his tight rim of muscles, the burning friction causing his eyes to water. The man doesn't even care as he works up a punishing pace, and before he's truly even prepared, the man shoves his thick girth in, grinning in a feral manner even when the boy keeps crying and begging for him to stop._

 

He wakes up with a sharp gasp, cold sweat drenching his sleeping robes at the nightmare he's had. There's a long moment of disorientation, the dread filling the pit of his stomach at the thought that he's back in The House, but he draws in deep breaths to calm himself down when he realises that he's in the safe confines of his own room, its doors and windows bolted shut with no one else in the enclosed space with him. 

He draws his knees to his chest, pressing his forehead against them and digging his fingers into the flesh of his own palms, trying to will away the horrific memories of his past. Initially, he had thought that he'd be able to forget about ever meeting the man at all by drowning himself in the attention of others, but every movement, every step he'd taken only seemed to remind him more and more about The House. It had, after all, given him the set of skills he possesses now, and he doesn't even know if he should thank or resent them for it. 

Not thinking about it when he's in public had been a remotely easier affair – he could tune out his thoughts by focusing on executing every move of his with precision, paying attention to the gentle twists of his wrists and body, singing every note required of him in the most pitch-perfect voice, letting the effort swallow him whole and leading him along through muscle memory alone. When he's holed up within these four walls without anything else to distract him, though–

He tries his utmost best to not follow that trail of thoughts, but fails miserably in the end. 

Sleep comes fitfully that night, and for many other nights to come after that.

 

╫

 

Coming from a fairly humble background, Yifan's almost in awe as Feifei gives him a tour of her home. She'd invited him over to her mansion that morning, having told him that she had made an appointment with the jeweller who's making the accessories for their wedding, and would like Yifan to pick them out with her. Against his better judgement, Yifan had agreed, knowing that he won't be able to put off from visiting his fiancée's home for long, with the increasing pressure her father is putting on him. Her father is ranked a lot higher than Yifan is in the military, and Yifan will probably be expected to take over the family name if they could force it upon him.

Yifan, of course, knows better than to go against his superior's wishes, let alone one who's about to become his father-in-law. He's not reckless enough to want to risk his life, yet. He has no reason to. 

Just when Yifan thinks his temporary residence is already swathed in luxury, Feifei's home really takes the cake, its size itself dwarfing his by at least twice. There are plenty of servants flocking around the house in order to carry out their responsibilities, and it almost feels like a miniature version of Shanghai's busiest crossroads, from the amount of people he's passed by within the first ten minutes of his tour alone, each face different from the preceding one. Yifan tries to commit to memory the location of each room, because he knows he'll be expected to be well-acquainted with every nook and cranny of the place in times to come. 

"There's still a bit of time to kill before the scheduled appointment with the jeweller, and I don't think I have anywhere else to show you," Feifei tells him with a sweet smile as she leads him around the corner, and not for the first time, Yifan finds himself wondering why Feifei had even considered giving him the time of her day, when she could have easily found someone else who's a lot wealthier than Yifan is.

"What do you propose we do, then?" Yifan smiles back, more out of politeness than anything else, and he's taken by surprise when Feifei wraps her slender fingers around his wrist and pulls him into the last room on the corridor. She shuts the door behind them and locks it, effectively leaving the both of them alone, and there's a seductive smile on her face now as she approaches Yifan with slow, graceful steps.

It's not until a moment later that Yifan realises that they're in _her_ room, when he notices the portrait of Feifei hanging on the wall behind her bed. Finding Yifan's attention focused elsewhere, Feifei tugs a little at the collar of his dress shirt in a silent request for him to keep his eyes on her, and he does. 

Up close, Yifan finds himself admiring the high arch of Feifei's cheekbones and the gentle slope of her nose, the perfect contour of her rouge-painted lips. Feifei's brown eyes are burning with a sort of magnetism Yifan can't put a finger upon, and when she presses in just a little further, her palms flat against his chest, Yifan finds himself holding his breath. 

If Yifan were any other man, he would have leaned in the rest of the way, taking full advantage of the quiet opportunity which Feifei is proffering him with, to explore every inch of her body in the confines of her own room, where they have all the privacy they need.

But Yifan is not any other man. 

Feifei goes on tiptoes and kisses Yifan on her own accord when Yifan doesn't make a move, and even when they part, Yifan still hasn't responded in the way Feifei is probably expecting him to. There's a hint of bitterness on her features as Feifei glances at Yifan and asks, "What's wrong? We're about to become husband and wife in a couple of months, Yifan. You don't have to hold back." 

"I don't think–" Yifan starts, only to be silenced by the soft press of Feifei's finger against his lips. She doesn't seem to be listening to him, when she wraps her arms around Yifan's neck and closes the distance between them again, this time more forceful than before, coaxing a response out of Yifan with open-mouthed kisses. 

Only then does Yifan let the last of his self-restraint go, kissing back with equal fervour and trying to keep his mind on the task at hand. Feifei doesn't even resist when his hand reaches behind her and tugs on the zip of her rose pink _qipao_ , even willingly breaking their lip-lock to allow Yifan to peel the material off her shoulders before pulling him down onto the bed with her. They stare at each other for a long moment, Feifei smiling up at him when she feels his gaze wandering across her body to take in the healthy flush of her chest and her ample bosom, as well as the way her pert nipples are straining against the material of her _qipao_ which is still clinging onto her torso. 

"You can have me, Yifan. All of me." Feifei whispers back, her pupils blown from lust as she waits for him to pull the next move. 

That's when Yifan's slammed by the realisation that he _can't_ do this – not because of his morals, but because of his interests. In the end, he extracts himself out of Feifei's arms and averts his gaze, offering her a silent apology before exiting the room immediately, leaving Feifei behind without further explanation.

He can hear the frustrated yell that echoes from Feifei's room as he backtracks his steps in search of the exit, but Yifan merely squeezes his eyes shut and blocks that out, too.

If only she knew.

 

╫

 

_oh then there's you inside my messy heart_  
oh it's you  
you made me find the hidden secret  
for a long time, deep inside my heart  
I hid these precious words  
I wanna take them out and tell you 

 

Boys will always be friends with boys, not with those of the opposite gender, because boys are much too rough and playful and thoughtless, while girls are delicate and gentle and need to be protected. Boys are supposed to protect girls when they fall in love and become their husbands, because it's what's _natural_ , something which has been in practice for several millennia and counting. It's what the society expects of them. It's what's acceptable, to conform to the norm.

Yifan has been taught of that fact from young, by watching the way his mother interacts with his father, all smiles and warmth and full of love no matter the number of years they've been bonded to each other, despite the lack of wealth. They were happy, even though they had to live a simple life and trying hard just to get through each day. Yifan had held on steadfastly to that principle, too. 

But things began to change when Yifan had gone abroad to study, having received aid from a generous businessman friend of his father's. People were more open-minded in the Western nations, boys fooling around with girls even though they're not bounded by the sanctity of marriage, and more often than not, Yifan would see limbs tangled together even in public places, sights which Yifan would prefer to erase from his mind.

Sometimes, Yifan would wonder if he would end up just like these Western boys, and forget about the strict upbringing his parents have inculcated in him in the East. He'd make friends with girls, that much is true, but they stay precisely that – _friends_. 

Thinking that he was doing his parents proud by not giving in to the temptation, Yifan had been contented. He'd never looked at a woman in a different light, believing that his integrity was strong enough for him to do what was respectable. 

That was until he'd accidentally walked in on his roommate in the dorms with his hands around his cock, jerking himself off languidly one fine day. His roommate is a Chinese national just like Yifan, though with significantly greater wealth, having been sent there on his parents' own funding, with a kittenish smile and a gorgeous singing voice which always makes _something_ stir within Yifan. Yifan's no stranger to masturbation, he's really not, but somehow, watching Zhongda's hips snapping up into his fist, his back arching gorgeously off the bed and sinful sounds spilling from his lips, made Yifan wish that _he_ was the one pulling those sounds out of Zhongda instead. 

Zhongda had caught him staring – of course he had – and instead of covering himself up in shame, he'd risen from his bed in an almost catlike grace, walking over to where Yifan had stood rooted in his spot and offered him an extremely enticing proposition – _fuck me, I've always wanted to know how your large hands would feel on me_.

Yifan, against his better judgement and with his thoughts clouded with nothing but lust, had given in to Zhongda's offer. What's worse was probably the fact that he had _enjoyed_ the experience, watching his own cock disappear into Zhongda while Zhongda's own erection grows stiffer and stiffer until he spills white over his toned abdomen, loved it even more when Zhongda had gone on his knees and wrapped his thin lips around Yifan's cock and swallowing all of his load when Yifan finally comes. 

It was the only experience Yifan had allowed himself, having been mortified by his own actions once the haze of lust was gone, and he promptly moved away from his shared dorm room with Zhongda, later on bringing his secret back with him to China. Sticking true to his roots, Yifan had never allowed himself anything more than fleeting glances and brief smiles of acknowledgement from then on, all while forcing himself to harbour the same feelings for women. 

He has never quite been successful in his attempts, but Yifan convinces himself that it's more than enough if he doesn't act upon his desires to be with another man instead of a woman like he _should_. 

That's when someone by the name of Du Jingxiu – a small man with pale skin and large, searching eyes – walks into Yifan's life, two years into his enlistment in the military. Companionship is easy to find, when you're alone in the middle of a bitter war, with no other outlets to express your sadness and frustrations and take your mind off the inevitable. Despite being quiet and almost intimidating for someone his size, Jingxiu had been easy for Yifan to get close to, and to lose the last of his restraints with. Many a night, when they would survive yet another skirmish with the Japanese army, Yifan would find his own limbs tangled with Jingxiu's, hands down each other's pants and cocks inside each other, sometimes fucking in a punishing pace like none of them could break, and others spent making slow, passionate love with silent moans pouring out of their mouths, too afraid of being caught, being judged for deviating from the norm. 

It's then that Yifan had realised, _truly_ , that his attraction to men wasn't confined strictly to Zhongda, and he will likely never be interested in anyone of the opposite gender. 

And now, with his wedding to Feifei on the horizon and his persistent inability to coerce himself into being attracted by his fiancée, Yifan wonders if he's made a grave mistake in agreeing to his superior's intent of having him marry her.

 

╫

 

It feels a little weird for him to be at the Tian Chan Theatre alone, when Yifan had always attended the shows with Junmian as his companion, but Yifan finds himself in that precise situation several evenings later, Junmian having travelled to Hangzhou for some business matters. He has half the mind to skip out on that evening's showing, because he still feels guilty for having escaped from meeting Yixing in the dressing room with Junmian that one time, but then he remembers what Junmian had asked of Yifan before he'd left, and forces himself to stick with it.

Besides, Yixing hasn't exactly spoken to Yifan since the incident at the restaurant, and has even refused any and all visitors to the dressing rooms after that. Even Junmian hadn't been spared from the ban, and he had asked of Yifan to attempt to get the story out of Yixing, if he could. 

"As reluctant as I am to admit this, Yixing has been asking me a lot about you in private," Junmian had told him when Yifan had asked, considering how Junmian's supposedly a lot closer to Yixing than Yifan will ever be, and had admitted that he thinks Yifan might have greater success at coaxing Yixing out of his shell.

Yifan is, of course, sceptical, but it doesn't stop him from accepting the request. For a friend. 

Tian Chan Theatre is putting on _Farewell My Concubine_ again that evening, as it always has on Tuesdays, and it's a play which Yifan has grown to be extremely familiar with, having been the piece which had introduced him to the world of _jīngjù_ and allowed him to meet Yixing. No matter the amount of times he's watched the troupe put on this particular piece, Yifan finds himself awed by the poignant plotline, each session providing him with a fresh take on the characters and their back stories. Yixing, in particular, is as magnetising as ever, with the graceful flicks of his wrists as he expresses Lady Yu's worries about the upcoming war and her fears that her husband is walking into a trap set up by the Hans. Yixing's movements are never the same for each performance, incorporating minute changes to his intonation, his wordings, his expressions all the time without detracting from the viewing experience, and it's honestly one of those traits which Yifan admires most about Zhang Yixing. At least, something fresh is brought onto the table with each performance, and Yifan's beginning to see why Junmian wouldn't hesitate to follow each and every one of Yixing's shows whenever possible. 

Yifan keeps his breath shallow when the piece arrives at the scene where Lady Yu would perform a sword dance for Xiang Yu, right before the Han troops loom upon them and slaughter them mercilessly, because he _knows_ that he will be touched by the way Yixing expresses Lady Yu's love and affection for Xiang Yu, despite the wrong decisions he had made which had culminated in his nation's eventual downfall. He's more than familiar with this scene by now, knowing that Lady Yu will commit suicide immediately after the sword dance, but the stage has never failed to make Yifan hold his breath the moment Lady Yu lets out a pained cry. It starts with a graceful upsweep of the sword by Yixing in a perfect arc, before he brings it down and spins in his position, letting the hem of his robes fan out beneath him before he would surge forth to join the _xiaosheng_ who holds the role of Xiang Yu across the stage.

Except, things do not go accordingly this evening, and Yifan goes wide-eyed as he watches Yixing have a misstep far too close to the edge when he tries to cross it, losing his balance in the process and falling right off the two metre-high stage. The music accompaniment promptly stops, the musicians having been surprised by the turn of events like the rest of the actors and the members of the audience, but Yifan's already on his feet, mind blank and being purely driven forth by the adrenaline as he rushes out of his seat to Yixing's side. 

It's only by a miracle that Yixing had managed to relinquish his hold on the sword right when his ankle had twisted in an awkward angle, or he might've been hurt worse. Yifan's heart stops beating for a moment when he realises that Yixing has been knocked out cold, and in the next moment, he's already yelling for people to get Yixing to the hospital, _right now_.

 

╫

 

 _He's been oddly distracted for the last week or so_ , the words ring in his head as he watches the man who's fast asleep on the hospital bed, _but no one really knows why; Yixing mostly keeps his private life to himself_.

It's been several hours since Yixing had fallen off the stage and had passed out, and it must be past midnight by now, if the stillness outside is any indication of it, the pale moon hanging high up in the sky. With the windows open, Yifan can hear the song of the insects filling the air, a cool autumn breeze wafting into the room through the gap, and he closes his eyes to savour the fragile silence. He knows he isn't supposed to be here still, when visiting hours have ended a long while ago, but it doesn't seem that the nurses will be here to chase him out any time soon, seeing that he's a Major General of the army. Might as well count his blessings. 

_A minor concussion, from when his head had hit the ground,_ the doctor who'd attended to Yixing had told Yifan, but Yifan wonders now if it's anything more sinister. A mild concussion shouldn't put Yixing out for so long. 

He tries hard to remain more optimistic. 

Yifan focuses instead on Yixing's supine form when he finally accepts that it's highly unlikely he will be able to fall asleep that night, not with Yixing and his current condition. Yixing's face, now completely clean and bare of the pink-and-white face paint he'd put on for the performance earlier, seems a lot more gaunt and paler than Yifan had last remembered him to be, his cheeks almost drained of colour. There are also dark circles beneath Yixing's eyes, almost in the shade of a nasty bruise, as if Yixing hadn't been sleeping well in the last couple of weeks at all. It makes Yifan worry, because Yixing had been the epitome of healthy when they'd met in private that fateful morning at the restaurant. 

Yixing's fellow actor, Changmin had been kind enough to stay at the hospital with Yifan for a while, wanting to ascertain that Yixing's condition was truly stable enough before he headed back to the theatre to inform the head of the troupe of the development. His burning curiosity much too strong to be put out, Yifan had ended up engaging Changmin in a conversation, trying to find out what has been up with Yixing in the last couple of weeks, and if Changmin would happen to know why Yixing had refused to receive any guests in the dressing room when he'd been more than welcoming of them previously. 

And Yifan chews on his bottom lip when he realises that everything had started on the day Yixing had been disturbed by the odd man at the restaurant. Yixing's background is completely unknown, it seems, and Changmin could only tell Yifan that the leader of the troupe had taken Yixing in several years ago, after having watched Yixing put on an impressive show on stage when they were searching for a new _huadan_ to replace the previous one. No one really cares about their fellow performers' backgrounds, unless they have a personal vendetta against them and has every intention to bring them down. Yixing seems friendly enough with the rest of his peers, and very rarely ever offended anyone before. No one paid any mind to ask. 

Yixing stirs in his sleep just then, and Yifan immediately stops agonising over the possible reasons why Yixing would be so affected by that middle-aged man, deciding to park himself in the chair which has been placed beside Yixing's bed instead. Yixing seems bewildered for a long moment upon regaining his consciousness, trying to make sense of where he is, large, round eyes blinking rapidly as he takes in his surroundings.

Yifan's efforts at keeping Yixing still on the bed with a gentle pressure on his shoulder, though, is met with a surprising amount of agitation, which sees Yixing springing away from his touch at once and curling into himself, arms wrapped tightly around his own trembling frame. The fear that washes over Yixing's features is an ugly reminiscent of the time when _that_ man had very nearly touched Yixing's face, and Yifan's nails dig into the flesh of his palm at the sight.

Just _what_ had the man done to Yixing to instil such great fear in him, if they did indeed know each other from a long way back? 

"Yixing," Yifan tries with a softer voice this time, being vigilant to not cause more alarm when Yixing is already so terribly shaken. "Yixing, calm down. It's only me, Yifan." 

"Yifan?" Yixing echoes, his eyes unfocused for a long moment still before something finally clicks in his head, and Yixing turns to look at Yifan in confusion. "Why are you here? Where is this place?" Thankfully, Yixing seems to have calmed down significantly upon recognising Yifan, the lines of his body a lot less guarded as he shifts into a more comfortable position on the bed. There's still a small distance between Yixing and Yifan, though, and Yifan tells himself to give Yixing more time to gather his thoughts. 

Nevertheless, Yifan raises an eyebrow at Yixing, feeling surprised. "You don't remember? You had an accident at the theatre, and fell off the stage. You're in the hospital right now." 

Yixing's features scrunches into a small frown this time, and he reaches up to dig the heel of his hand into his temple, groaning a little in pain. "Is that– is that why my head is aching terribly at the moment?" 

"I'm going to get the doctor for you–" Yifan immediately says, half-rising from his chair with the worry flooding his mind, but he's stopped from taking even a single step away from the bed when Yixing reaches forth and wraps his fingers around Yifan's wrist. The touch is almost electric, and Yifan's mouth goes rather dry by Yixing's bold actions. 

"You don't have to. I'm fine," Yixing tells him. Then, as if as an afterthought, he amends himself. "I'll be fine after some rest. Please, sit."

"Are you sure?" Yifan asks, eyeing Yixing sceptically, but he acquiesces in the end when Yixing nods firmly in response. It doesn't stop him from worrying about Yixing, though, and he's fully poised to bolt out of the room in search of a medical personnel the moment something goes wrong. "You don't look too well." 

"I don't _feel_ too well–" Yixing agrees, flashing Yifan a thin, tired smile as he leans back against the headboard, his eyelids fluttering shut, "–but I'll live. I've been through worse. Much, much worse." 

There's a long moment of silence that follows soon after, with Yifan not knowing what he should say in response to Yixing's statement, but he's contented enough to know that Yixing is alright just like the doctor had said he would be, and to watch him quietly like this. Yifan almost thinks that Yixing has fallen asleep again, judging from the steady rise and fall of his chest with every breath taken, and is about to reach forth to rearrange the blanket around Yixing when Yixing speaks up again, his voice scratchy from exhaustion. It makes Yifan freeze mid-action.

"Why did you help me? You could have left me alone." 

For a moment, Yifan frowns at Yixing in confusion, thinking that anyone of sane mind would have helped send Yixing to the hospital when the mishap had happened. Only those who are heartless enough would have walked away without batting an eyelash. Yifan isn't like that; he wasn't trained to be a military medic in the first place if he weren't altruistic enough. 

Then, just as Yifan opens his mouth to provide Yixing with his answer, the words die in his throat when another realisation strikes him hard. Yixing wasn't talking about the incident at the theatre at all. The way Yixing's fingers are digging into the blanket as he slowly curls into himself is telling, as is the slight tremble of his frame. Whatever Yixing is thinking about right now must affect him greatly, and Yifan rather wishes he could read into Yixing's thoughts; at least then Yixing wouldn't have to go through the pain of retelling it. 

"I could tell you were afraid of the man," Yifan says quietly, momentarily averting his gaze from Yixing to lift the burden of being watched off him. Yifan himself would prefer it if someone else could give him the space to think and speak at his own pace without the weight of scrutiny being pinned on him, especially when he has to deal with his inner demons. Without a doubt, this is Yixing's. It's just a matter of _what_ it is. "What sort of person would I be, if I left you alone to deal with him? It didn't sit well with me that he was forcing himself on you." 

One of Yifan's words must have struck Yixing hard, and the younger man makes himself look even smaller than he had before, almost sitting in foetal position on the bed by now, and his complexion is abnormally pale. It makes Yifan worry if the headache's back to plague Yixing with a vengeance, but Yixing beats him to it. "He did. Force himself on me." 

Yixing's voice is so small that Yifan swears he could have misheard it, and he frowns at Yixing once again, feeling rather confused. "What do you mean?" 

When Yixing looks up at Yifan and flashes a haunting smile at him, Yifan's heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach at the hidden implication. "Have you ever heard of the _xianggong tangzi_?" Yixing asks, and the strain in his voice is more than evident. He seems as though he's about to pass out from remembering the incident alone, lips dry and face white as a sheet of paper, beads of sweat forming on his temple and soaking through his hospital attire. 

The creases on Yifan's forehead deepens. "I... don't. Am I supposed to?" 

A short, humourless laugh escapes Yixing's lips at the question. "Right, I forgot you were brought up abroad," he says, and the panic rises within Yifan.

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it now. Or ever." Yifan's quick to reassure; the last thing he wants is for Yixing to succumb to another panic attack so soon after his accident. He's curious, that much is for sure, but he's not cruel enough to want Yixing to suffer through this. 

Yixing only shakes his head, his pale lips curled up into a sad smile. "If I don't tell you now, then I will never gain the courage to speak of this ever again." 

Hesitant, Yifan nods. "Only if you're sure. You can stop any time you intend to."

Nevertheless, no amount of mental preparation could have braced Yifan for what Yixing is about to tell him, and he's promptly plunged into a world filled with an inexplicable amount of darkness he's never known before. 

"The _xianggong tangzi_ are whorehouses. Brothels where disgusting old men pay to have sex with young boys dressed as girls. Men who refuse to let their skewed sexual preferences be known by those around them. Young boys whose family have abandoned them, or orphanages who have sold them off in exchange for a heathy sum of money," Yixing tells him, throat working as he dredges the unwanted memories up from the deepest depths of his mind. There are tears wetting the corner of his eyes as he stares forth, losing himself in his thoughts as he continues to tell Yifan of the _xianggong tangzi_. "Boys who are sold to these hellholes are trained in the art of performing, not unlike those which are required of us to play the role of a _dan_. You don't have a say in what you want or do not want to do. Your life no longer belongs to you the moment you step through the doors of the _xianggong tangzi_." 

There's a lump in Yifan's throat when he realises that Yixing's talking about _his_ own experience, and the pit of his stomach twists sickeningly. He feels as though he's about to throw up. "You don't mean–" 

The expression that crosses Yixing's features is a twisted mix of self-deprecation and resignation. "They haven't an ounce of mercy, these men. All they care about is their own pleasure, and what they want. We're treated like _toys_ , _slaves_ for their amusement. They'll drag us across the room, crying and kicking and screaming while they laugh away, handling us as roughly as they pleased just to see us cry and beg for them to be gentle. Sometimes they'd shove their cocks right down our throats without warning, making us choke and gasp over our own spit. Sometimes, they'd even fuck right into our asses without prepping us up first, leaving us all in pain and unable to walk for days on end by the time they're done. And when we don't listen to them–" 

By then, Yifan has recognised that what Yixing wants isn't pity, but understanding – understanding that he had no choice but to obey what the owner of the _xianggong tangzi_ and the men who frequented it wanted of him; that if Yixing ever dared to defy what they desired, then he would be tortured without mercy, that he would have been _killed_. After all, Yifan has been in the army for many years. He doesn't doubt, even for a moment, that what awaits insubordination is only death.

And Yifan feels nothing but admiration for Yixing, for having walked this far from his traumatic childhood days and is still standing tall right now, putting on a brilliant smile and breathtaking performances for the world to see. 

"That's enough, Yixing." Yifan reassures him as he moves to sit on the bed, wrapping an arm around Yixing and pulling him close, injecting as much sincerity into his gesture as he possibly can. The last thing Yifan wants is for Yixing to misunderstand his actions, that he intends to use Yixing's body like the other men have used him. No; Yifan couldn't. Not after what Yixing had told him. "You don't have to say anything else. I understand." 

His embrace is probably what Yixing had needed to finally allow the last of his defensive walls to crumble into dust, and Yixing clings on tightly to the fabric of Yifan's dress shirt, the first drops of tears soaking through the material. "That man will find me, Yifan. His words promised as much, and I can't– I don't want to–" 

_I don't want to have his dirty hands on me again_ , Yixing seems to be screaming silently, and a fierce sense of protectiveness washes over Yifan, making him hold Yixing even closer to him. 

"I won't let him, or anyone else from your past to harm you for as long as I'm here in Shanghai, Yixing. I promise you." 

And Yifan's heart continues to break for Yixing, even as Yixing's tears turn from that of fear to that of relief.

 

╫

 

It's for the fourteenth consecutive night since he's met the man at the restaurant again that Yixing finds himself jolting awake from his sleep, but he doesn't scream out in fear. He's long since learned to keep his throat constricted right before he shrieks aloud, when he'd finally managed to escape from the _xianggong tangzi_ and found salvation at the Tian Chan Theatre. It doesn't stop his clothes from being drenched in cold sweat, though, and Yixing wraps the blanket tighter around himself, trying to stave off the bone-deep chill, forcing himself to stay focused on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. Hyperventilating is the last thing he wants to happen right now, when his head is already hurting terribly.

It's not of much help, but at least Yixing has something else to distract him from reliving his nightmare even when he's already conscious. 

This night is a little different, though, and Yixing only remembers that he isn't in his own bed when the sharp sting of antiseptics invades his senses. _Accident, fainted, hospital_ , Yixing repeats to himself under his breath, until his racing pulse finally starts to calm. It's never easy for Yixing to find himself in a room that isn't his; the trauma of realising what his new home actually was, back when he'd been just a child of ten, still lingers even now, complete with the lewd leer of the first man who had ever laid his hands on Yixing's naked body.

The constant breathing pattern Yixing had finally managed to establish after putting in an obscene amount of effort is instantly shattered, however, when he opens his eyes and finds none other than Yifan sound asleep in the chair next to the window. He curls his fingers into the woollen material of the blanket when Yixing remembers what had happened before Yixing had fallen asleep, of the words and the tears which had spilled into the empty space between them. 

This is the first time Yixing has ever talked about his dark past at all, since he'd told Boxian. Not even Junmian knows about it, and he's supposed to be someone Yixing trusts the most in this world, apart from Boxian. Somehow, Yixing's gut feeling tells him that he can entrust Yifan with his secret, even though it hasn't been very long since they'd become friends. Yifan seems to have a mysterious air about him as well, the look in his eyes concealing a secret that's fighting to be told. Regardless, it's too late for Yixing to regret his actions, now that Yifan already knows of Yixing's dark past. There's nothing he can do but to cross his fingers and hope that his trust hasn't been misplaced.

It could make or break Yixing's life in Shanghai, and Yixing honestly doesn't know where else he could run to, if he's forced to leave this place he's been calling his home for so long.

Yixing worries on his bottom lip again when he recalls how it had felt, being in Yifan's warm embrace. From the very first time Yixing had met Yifan, he had thought that Yifan's a very dependable existence, shoulders broad enough to seemingly carry the weight of the world. There had been an inexplicable sense of attraction stirring within Yixing from the beginning, and the feeling only grows stronger with each passing day, when Yifan proves Yixing's suspicions to be right. 

Yixing winces a little when he imagines the amount of pain Yifan would be in, when he's sleeping in such an awkward position with his neck lolling to the side. He has half the mind to shake Yifan awake, to ask Yifan to not worry about him and head home to get some proper rest, but the concern that Yifan might have just fallen asleep after tossing and turning repeatedly in the cramped seat floods his mind, and Yixing aborts the thought. It can't possibly be comfortable, having to sleep in a sitting position, but Yixing hates it more to deprive Yifan of some much-needed rest.

Then again, Yifan doesn't exactly have the obligation to stay the night at the hospital. It isn't as though Yixing hadn't told him that, but Yifan had been too stubborn to listen. Nevertheless, Yixing feels warmed by the thought that Yifan's doing it entirely for _his_ sake, and a smile spreads across his face as he watches Yifan's peaceful sleeping expressions.

He, too, slowly drifts into a deep slumber later, with Yifan's face burned into the back of his eyelids. It's the first time the sandman has ever been able to coax Yixing back to dreamland after his nightmares, and it's the most peaceful night Yixing's had in a long, long while.

 

╫

 

While Yifan enjoys the prospect of not having to go near another battlefield any time soon, a perk which comes with his job description as Major General and thus allows him to be based in the city to issue commands instead of being the one who carries them out, it's not always enjoyable for him. Today is one such day, when Yifan finds himself cooped up at home with a mug of coffee on the table and a stack of documents awaiting his perusal sitting next to it. Paperwork have always been a bore to him, back when he was still in school and would find every possible way to skip out on working on his assignments. He hadn't been a favourite amongst his teachers when in class, but his stellar grades would more than make up for his lack of dedication for the homework his teachers would assign to them.

Deciding to take a break from having to read line after line of perfectly inked words for hours on end, Yifan stretches his arms out on either side of him to loosen the kinks in his shoulders, yawning aloud. He blearily rubs at his eyes as he casts a forlorn look at the scenery outside his window, sighing in resignation when he realises he's going to spend the rest of the day surrounded by these four walls, too. The paperwork will not finish themselves, and unfortunately for Yifan, Luhan is probably going to chew his ear off with his nagging if Yifan ever misses the deadline for submission, too. Something about having to send these documents to the headquarters in Beijing with the next train, before winter strikes them hard with heavy snowfall and causing unnecessary delays, Yifan thinks Luhan had told him. He wasn't really listening. 

Besides, with Feifei still upset at him for having rejected her bold advances, it's not as though Yifan has anything else to occupy his time with, considering the fact that Feifei's the one handling the preparations for their wedding. Junmian is still away from Shanghai, and Yixing, who'd just been discharged from the hospital a week ago after making satisfactory recovery, has been banned by the leader of the performing troupe from participating in their shows for at least another week, which leaves Yifan's evenings free in the meantime. Seeking for Wang Jiaer's company is not an option; Yifan has heard of enough business proposals from the man to last him a while. 

Yifan is about to settle down to continue with his work, though, when someone rings the doorbell, surprising Yifan. He isn't expecting any guests for the day, and can't think of anyone who'd willingly drop by his residence, either. Yifan still doesn't know enough people in Shanghai to warrant such unannounced visits. 

His eyebrows disappears beneath his fringe, though, when he answers the door and finds Yixing standing there at his doorstep, this time dressed in a pure white _changshan_ and looking breathtakingly serene as he flashes a dimpled smile at Yifan. If angels ever do exist, Yifan is almost convinced that Yixing would fit the description of one. 

He nearly forgets to breathe. 

"Hi," Yixing greets shyly, and Yifan really wants to die in a ditch when his cheeks grow warm. He knows these signs, has experienced them when he'd been faced with Zhongda in the past, but it doesn't mean that Yifan _wants_ to deal with them right now, not when he has an engagement to uphold. "I'm sorry for dropping by unannounced, but I was in the neighbourhood and I wondered if– if you'd like to go on a walk with me? As a show of my gratitude for looking after me at the hospital, I mean." 

Yifan stops himself short from telling Yixing that no one ever _just drops by_ Yifan's neighbourhood, because the houses here are few and far between for maximal silence and privacy. Judging by the rosy pink colour dusting Yixing's cheeks and tainting the tips of his ears, Yixing must know this too. It makes everything all the more endearing, though Yifan holds himself back from continuing on that thought. 

It's dangerous, uncharted territory. 

Remembering that Yixing is expecting for an answer, Yifan glances over his shoulder at the stack of documents on his coffee table still awaiting for his review, and his decision is made in an instant. 

"A walk sounds fantastic. Let me just grab my coat," he turns to Yixing and beams, watching almost breathlessly as the smile spreads like sunshine in spring on Yixing's face. 

Zhang Yixing's existence is simply devastating.

 

╫

 

When Yixing had asked Yifan out for a walk earlier, he hadn't expected to find himself seated on a bench with Yixing by his side, a piping hot bowl of _douhua_ in their hands as they watched the ships sail into port at the Huangpu River. It's a huge contrast from the times when he'd go on a date with Feifei – this is _not_ a date, Yifan firmly reminds himself – but Yifan can't say he's not enjoying his time.

Yixing proves to be a great host to his home city of Shanghai, having brought Yifan to each and every place of interest in the city if they're within walking distance, and would offer him a lengthy explanation of each locality's rich history, which Yifan gleefully drinks up. He's always been interested in arts and history, after all, something which Yixing had discovered within the first ten minutes of their conversation that morning and had decided to go on a history trail with Yifan. 

Once they'd gotten tired – or, more like Yifan had noticed that Yixing was growing exhausted, having just recuperated from a bad concussion recently, prompting Yifan to lie that he was tired instead, because Yixing would never admit to it if Yifan asked – Yixing had brought Yifan to a stall situated by the Bund which sold, according to Yixing, the most delicious _douhua_ Yifan would ever have the privilege of tasting. 

And Yifan is extremely inclined to agree, when he lifts yet another spoonful of _douhua_ to his mouth and feels the soybean pudding melt on his tongue, before leaving a warm trail down his throat and into his stomach. He's never found another _douhua_ as smooth as this, and had all but given up on locating a stall in Beijing which offers what he's looking for. 

This must be heaven. 

"I wasn't lying when I told you it's _the_ best around," Yixing beams at Yifan from beside him, eyes turning into attractive crescents, and the dimple on his right cheek makes its presence known. Behind them, the bell of the tram tolls as it glides along its tracks, intermixed with the tinkling sounds of bicycle bells and the loud hum of the engines of automobiles. Despite the jarring mixture of sounds, Yifan feels oddly at peace, and he cradles his half-empty bowl against his abdomen as he leans against the backrest of the bench.

 _Once upon a time_ , Yixing had told Yifan when they were heading towards the _douhua_ stall, his eyes darting around to take in the sights of the colonial buildings around them along the boulevard that lines the shore of the Huangpu River, _you'd hear the white man's language wherever you turn, and the Chinese are an actual scarcity in this area. They'd moved out long ago, though, before the Japanese had come._ Yifan can almost picture the scene in his mind, and he's momentarily transported back to the times when he'd been in London, struggling as he tried to pick up English as fast as he could to survive. It seems like such a long while ago, but Yifan doesn't regret the experience at all. 

"I haven't felt this relaxed in a long while," Yifan admits with a smile moments later, casting a sideward glance at Yixing and finds him averting his gaze immediately with a telltale blush dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. It's cute. "Thank you."

"You seemed stressed out, when you were at the hospital last week," Yixing tells him, smile softening even though he isn't exactly looking at Yifan, indirectly letting Yifan know the actual reason behind his invitation today. "Is there something wrong?" 

Yifan thinks back on the time when he had visited Yixing frequently in the hospital, when he had been worrying over Yixing's condition the most above everything else, but he doesn't tell Yixing that. There's no reason for Yifan to care this much about Yixing, even if Yixing _is_ his friend; not even Luhan receives such treatment from Yifan, close as they are. He doesn't even stop to think about how he might be running away from a truth which he yet has the courage to face, but Yifan leaves it at that.

Then of course Yifan has the issue with Feifei, and having to potentially tell her that he isn't sexually attracted to her in any way. There's no doubt that her father would want them to have children in the long run, but Yifan doesn't know how he's supposed to do that when he can't even see himself being naked with Feifei in bed, let alone touch her intimately like he would another man. 

In the end, Yifan settles for a simple, "Have you ever had a secret so massive that you can't see yourself telling anyone else, for fear that they'd shun you, mock you for it?" 

He forgets, for a moment, that Yixing is indeed keeping a huge secret from the world, of him having been a part of the _xianggong tangzi_ which had left his childhood memories filled with numerous scars and traumatic experiences. Suddenly Yifan wishes he could turn back time, to stop himself from asking Yixing that question and to invoke the unwanted recollection that follows. 

Yixing's hand which is holding onto the spoon stills, and he drops his gaze to his lap, but a brave smile is still on his face regardless. "You know my secret," he whispers, blinking slowly as he tries to rein in his emotions, and does a great job at it. As expected of a skilled actor of Yixing's calibre. "But I suppose you'd have to tell it to someone else who understands what it's like to fear ostracism, to really start moving on." Then, without warning, Yixing turns to Yifan and beams brightly. "It's like that, for me." 

Yifan feels as though he's falling all over again. It's nothing unlike the time when Zhongda had first smiled at him and welcomed him in their native language when Yifan had moved into their shared dorm in London, and had given him a sense of _home_. 

Right now, Yixing's giving him the courage to tell someone else apart from Luhan what he really is, and Yifan really wants Yixing to accept him. "I had an argument with Feifei recently. I suppose you remember my fiancée?" 

Surprise flashes across Yixing's features at the statement, before concern takes over. "I thought you were both happy together. I didn't expect–" he starts, then settles for a simple, "What happened?" 

Yifan closes his eyes and throws his head back as he recalls the sequence of events which had eventually led to him leaving Feifei's house immediately and hearing Feifei's cry of anguish echoing down the hallway. "She offered herself to me, wanting to consummate our marriage before we even walk down the aisle. I refused."

He can almost feel Yixing's stare of confusion being pinned on him, and knows what he must be thinking, that Yifan's a gentleman for not taking advantage of Feifei before they were tied down by the bond of marriage. But it's not like that. "I don't see what's wrong with that," Yixing confesses in the end, as Yifan had expected him to. "You're only doing what your upbringing has taught you." 

"I am not an advocate for abstinence before marriage, if you must know. I've slept with others before," Yifan smiles in a self-deprecating manner as he reopens his eyes to regard Yixing, wanting Yixing to know that he _means_ what he's about to tell Yixing. Somehow, he doesn't feel ashamed to admit about the darker side of his past to Yixing. "And I'm pretty sure that my upbringing did not teach me to be physically attracted to people of the same gender, instead of gorgeous women like Feifei. Someone who could actually bear my child to inherit my family name, not someone who possesses similar anatomical attributes as I do." 

There are several heartbeats' worth of silence as Yixing tries to let the words sink in, but there isn't an ounce of disgust or rejection on his face when Yixing finally smiles at Yifan again. "I don't see what's wrong with that, either. It's our personal preference. No one should judge our character based on our preferences. I'm not in the position to do that to you, nor will I ever think about doing it, either. You can't choose who your heart wants to love." 

It's then that the weight on his shoulders finally lift, and Yifan relaxes for the first time in a long while. Somehow, gaining the reassurance from Yixing that his sexual preferences will not stand in the way of his friendship with Yixing means a lot to him, especially in a world where people who deviates from the norm will be shunned and mocked and ridiculed. _Queer_ , Yifan has heard his classmates in London say in a condescending, almost disgusted tone whenever they would come across a couple who didn't care less that they were of the same gender, and Yifan hadn't wanted to receive such treatment either, no matter what his heart might say.

He's still afraid now, but perhaps with Yixing's knowledge and support, Yifan might just come around to openly admitting his preferences in the future. 

_You can't choose who your heart wants to love._

"Thank you, Yixing."

 

╫

 

"It's extremely rare for you to head out so frequently, Xing _ge_ ," Boxian swings by Yixing's room the moment he returns home, a large grin threatening to split his face apart. Yixing quickly schools his expressions into neutrality, hoping Boxian hadn't caught him smiling to himself.

It's a good thing he has a strong acting background, or Yixing might have really given himself away by now. 

When Yixing deems himself calm enough to answer Boxian, he turns around to greet the younger man with a serene smile. "Whatever do you mean, Boxian? I certainly don't spend all of my time being cooped up at home, if you must know," he says, cocking his head to the side and feigning innocence. Yixing might have just turned twenty eight a month ago, but it certainly doesn't discount from the fact that he looks young enough to pass off as twenty. It's one of the main reasons why the theatre is still keen on keeping him as a _huadan_ for his youthful appearance. 

Unfortunately, this is one of those times when Boxian is persistent as hell in getting the answers that he wants, and his grin doesn't falter in the slightest when he quips, "Yes, I know that, but your usual outings definitely doesn't include a certain Major General Wu. Alone. I know what I saw, and I saw him walking you home earlier."

At that, Yixing's smile freezes a little around its edges. Indeed, Yixing would meet up with Junmian for tea at their favourite teahouse on most days, with the addition of Yifan after they'd become acquainted. Nevertheless, Junmian has been busy attending to his family business as of late, and has been travelling in and out of Shanghai far too often for Yixing to be able to arrange his schedules around Junmian's availability – not that Junmian _minds_ , but still. And somehow, Yixing has a newfound urge to get to know Yifan better, ever since Yifan had brought him to the hospital after his nasty fall at the theatre, and had stayed by his side until the next morning loomed, despite the less-than-satisfactory resting conditions. He doesn't know why, but Yixing's heart had leapt when he'd heard Yifan confess that he doesn't like women in a romantic sense. 

He hasn't told Yifan this, but Yixing is just the same. Yixing's cheeks flame again at the mere thought of it. 

"So what is it, Xing _ge_?" Boxian's much too cheerful voice cuts into his thoughts yet again when Yixing remains silent for far too long, and Yixing just _knows_ he's been caught red-handed when he notices the teasing lilt in Boxian's words. "You like Major General Wu, don't you?" 

Flustered, Yixing pushes Boxian's face away from him by reflex, and rolls his eyes in exasperation at the younger man. "That's an insane idea, Bian Boxian. Don't let anyone else hear you saying such crazy things, or they might really think I'm odd," he huffs, before turning around to march into his room, his cheeks still burning hot against the cold air that sifts through the open space. Even though there's only the two of them occupying the loft, it doesn't stop Yixing from feeling embarrassed by Boxian's words. 

Before Yixing could shut the door though, he hears Boxian calling out after him in a clear, serious voice. "It's not a sin to love, Yixing. It's not a sin to want to be loved, either, no matter what has happened in the past. I just want you to be happy."

Yixing swallows the invisible lump in his throat, and gently shuts the door behind him. 

_I_ am _happy_.

 

╫

 

_you make my heart shake, bend and break_  
but I can't turn away  
and it's driving me wild  
you're driving me wild 

 

Yifan almost doesn't recognise his own residence the moment he steps out of his room, when he's greeted by the sight of dozens of people milling about in his living area and the dining hall, holding flutes of champagne as they interact amongst themselves, conversations loud and their accompanying laughter even more boisterous. In fact, Yifan actually feels overdressed in his own home, when he's donning his formal military attire like this.

"This is necessary. I've invited a large number of high-ranking military personnel on your behalf," Feifei, who'd finally started talking to Yifan again almost two weeks after that incident at her mansion, had smiled as she straightened his outfit for him in the privacy of his bedroom when he had commented about it. Surprisingly, Feifei hadn't brought up about the incident during their time alone, leaving Yifan feeling rather relieved that he could escape from telling her the truth a little longer, albeit inciting the guilt within him at the same time. She was the one who'd coerced Yifan into throwing this party at all – she doesn't even care that he thinks this is all extremely pretentious, throwing a birthday party of such a scale for _himself_ , and tells him that he needs to get used to such a life soon, before he steps into the upper echelon of society after their marriage.

It makes Yifan think that those with too much wealth are people who are contented enough to live the rest of their lives wearing a mask to hide their true selves. It's probably not too far from the truth; he still doesn't understand Feifei enough, even after spending so much time interacting with her ever since he came to Shanghai. Whenever he talks to Feifei, there's always a peculiar feeling that she's hiding something from him. He's the same, of course, so Yifan doesn't ever bring his suspicions up in their conversations. Perhaps he's more suited to the life of the higher caste of society than he had initially thought. 

Yifan shudders to think of the day that he'll truly blend into this lifestyle, and lose his true self in the process. 

Now completely alone – Feifei having left earlier to greet her father and the rest of the guests as though she's the lady of the house – and standing at the top flight of stairs, Yifan glances at the crowd who had gathered below in his living area. No one has noticed him just yet; he doesn't hope anyone would notice him this soon, either, as it provides him with the opportunity to survey for himself just whom had Feifei invited on his behalf. She had insisted on handling the guest list that afternoon, and seeing that he barely even knew anyone else of importance in Shanghai, Yifan had agreed without putting in much thought. After all, as much as Yifan doesn't want to think about it, their wedding date is drawing infinitely closer, and he would have to allow Feifei to handle their family matters soon enough, as is expected of the wives of each family.

Right now, though, he rather regrets not having talked things through with Feifei, because Yifan can see that Feifei had taken the liberty of inviting most of the merchants and businessmen in town. She _knows_ they'd try to talk him into agreeing to a business deal with them, and those who are bolder would attempt to convince him into turning a blind eye on their illegal dealings with hefty bribes, but it doesn't seem as though Feifei is fazed by his concerns at all. Military officials who take bribes under the table have always disgusted Yifan, and he's vowed to never be like them, no matter how desperate he is for money. Feifei probably would not understand it, the pride of working hard and honestly to earn a living; she has enough wealth to last her a lifetime without her having to worry about anything else at all. 

The only consolation Yifan has right now, though, is the fact that Feifei has taken to mind to extend an invitation to Junmian as well, and his heart lightens a little when he catches sight of Junmian in the crowd. His pulse soars, though, when he finds another familiar face beside Junmian, chatting away happily with the man. That dimpled smile is far too difficult to miss, and even though Yifan had just met Yixing a day ago, he had never realised just how much he has been looking forward to seeing the man again. 

The surge of emotions rather surprises him, but Yifan isn't given the opportunity to really dwell upon it when someone grabs hold of his arm and gently tugs him down the stairs along with them. It's Feifei, Yifan realises, when he catches sight of the short train of Feifei's lilac _qipao_ trailing after her, his gaze having been downcast earlier, and she's saying something along the lines of, "Everyone's excited to meet the birthday boy. You've been hiding upstairs for so long; the guests are growing impatient."

It's not true, of course, not when most of them are still completely absorbed in their own conversations even when Yifan passes them by. He isn't fooled by the pretences, knows that social gatherings like these are merely platforms for the already rich and famous to establish more business opportunities with the others. It's not as though they don't already do enough of that outside, but parties serve as an easier gathering location for them, considering the crowd. 

And, despite getting dragged by Feifei from one group to another, exchanging pleasantries and introductions with those he's never met before, Yifan still finds his gaze wandering off between lulls in conversation, to where Yixing is still standing with Junmian. Jealousy eventually rears its ugly head, a slow but sure simmer of emotions that has Yifan's patience growing thin as he listens to others speaking of subjects that do not interest him, because ultimately, there's nothing else that will humour him as much as the things Yixing tells him when they're out on the streets, shoulders bumping as Yixing points out the places of interest in Shanghai to him. 

"Are you not feeling well?" Feifei touches his arm just then, her words a bare whisper as she looks up at him with concern in her eyes – not exactly sincere, but no one else needs to know. They're all actors on the stage of Life, anyway. 

And, in his dazed mood, Yifan can only afford an intelligent, "What?" 

"Your attention is wavering," Feifei says. The smile on her painted lips looks almost forced, and Yifan honestly can't blame her for it. "Is something bothering you?"

At the question, Yifan really wants to say that _yes_ , something is indeed bothering him very much, because he would rather have a small gathering with his close friends – Junmian, Yixing, Luhan, Canlie – for his birthday instead of a huge party where he has to dress up in uniform and greet people he doesn't even necessarily know, all gathered here because of their ties to the Wang family and not to Yifan. There's so much pent-up frustration within him that Yifan doesn't even know where he should begin, but in the end Yifan thinks better of losing his temper in full view of the guests ( _Feifei's_ guests, his mind sternly insists) and sighs drearily. 

"No, I'm fine. Just tired from poring through the documents overnight, is all," he tells her, and holding himself back from visibly flinching at his own words becomes a great task. He manages in the end, though, and internally sighs in relief. "Is there anyone else you'd like me to meet?" 

The rest of the party is but a mundane routine of smiling and saying hello to the rest of the strangers milling about in his residence, and Yifan thinks he might not be able to feel his jaw by the end of it from how his smile has frozen in place. His eyes never do stop wandering towards Yixing, however, and he silently admires the way the red _changshan_ with intricate black lace patterns seen around its collar complements Yixing's skin, bringing out the colour in his cheeks even more. There's a nagging suspicion, though, that Feifei might be intentionally steering him away from Junmian and Yixing, because he's caught the way Feifei had looked at Yixing with utter dislike in her eyes, and the way her lips had curled in contempt when Yixing had met her gaze and smiled in greeting. He knows what Feifei must be thinking, probably something along the lines of _who invited this lowly performer to the party?_ , because Yifan knows that she's never changed her mind about Yixing from the very first time she had met him. 

It's unfortunate; Feifei would have seen what a wonderful and humble person Yixing is, and understood why Yifan would very much prefer surrounding himself with Junmian and Yixing rather than everyone else in the military, if only she could let her ideals go and actually get to know Yixing herself. 

It's finally during a lull in their crowd hopping, with Feifei excusing herself to use the washroom, that Yifan finally manages to escape to where Junmian and Yixing are standing in a corner, sipping on their glass of red wine. Yifan's heart stops beating for several long moments, absolutely captivated by the way Yixing's face lights up when Yifan draws close. Of course, in order not to invite any suspicion, Yifan stands closer to Junmian and gives him a friendly clap on the back, grinning widely as he greets them both. 

"Someone's a busy man tonight," Junmian teases, and Yifan rightfully ducks his head in shame. 

"Sorry, you know how things are. Sometimes you can't act as you please," Yifan says, and Junmian clinks his wine glass against Yifan's as he takes a look around them and gives Yifan a solemn nod. They all know how it is, living in Shanghai and immersing themselves in such toxic social circles, yet it seems like it's the only way they have to survive this cutthroat world. Offend one, and you offend all. 

"Agreed. But it's been a pleasure speaking to your fiancée. She's quite the influential one, isn't she?" Junmian comments just then, and Yifan can't even stop himself from wincing at the term. It's an unwanted reminder, really, and there's only so many more months to the wedding which Yifan can't seem to escape from at this point. Feifei isn't going to agree to calling off the wedding, even if Yifan ends up telling her that he simply isn't interested in women. Pride swallows them all. 

"You can expect that much from the daughter of General Wang," Yixing comments in lieu of a joke, which Yifan finds himself laughing awkwardly to. Even if no one talks about it, Yifan can already begin to see the condescension in their eyes when they look at him, no doubt seeing Yifan as leeching off the Wang family name with his marriage to Feifei. Feifei has already begun talking about her father getting them a home in Beijing after their marriage, and Yifan's cheeks flame at the implication that follows. It's almost as though he's marrying into the Wang family, instead of Feifei marrying into the Wu family like it's expected of every other woman out there. 

For one, Feifei isn't just _any_ woman. 

Then again, what does his family have to provide for Feifei? Yifan doesn't believe, even for a second, that Feifei would willingly give up on her family's wealth to be with Yifan. They're not _in love_. Anyone can see that Yifan holds great potential to climb to the highest possible rank in the army in the next couple of years, and General Wang's age is fast catching up to him. It's only natural for Feifei and her father to want to establish a beneficial relationship with Yifan in order to secure their future. 

And that's where the fundamental problem lies. 

As if sensing the awkwardness his words have brought on, though, Yixing clears his throat and takes another sip of his wine, murmuring a quiet 'sorry' against its edge. It's not much, but Yifan's close enough to hear it, and knows that it's nothing short of sincere, considering that it's coming from Yixing. It's another one of those reasons why Yifan is so terribly fond of Yixing, apart from the fact that he doesn't plan on using Yifan's influence to earn him a greater place in society. Yixing never hides under any pretences, each word of his filled with as much sincerity as Yixing feels deep within. And Yixing is far too generous with his friendship, too, unlike the rest of the people in this room with them who'd offer conditional promises of friendship, only to pull away the very moment Yifan meets his downfall. 

It's sickening, but it's a toxin which is so deeply entrenched in society that no one can do a thing about it. 

That's when Yixing exclaims a soft _oh_ , earning Yifan's attention once again when he rummages around the pocket of his _changshan_. Yifan finds himself raising an eyebrow in curiosity when Yixing produces a small red pouch on his open palm, and presents it to Yifan with a broad smile on his face. "Before I forget, this is for you. It's not much, but I wanted you to have this scented pouch." 

Yifan can see the astonishment mirrored on Junmian's expressions, realising that this isn't something Yixing would usually do, but Yifan's smiling as he takes the pouch into his hand. His eyes widen when he finds the face of a _huadan_ embroidered on the reverse side; it's a little rough on the edges, telltale signs that this was made by someone who was once adept at the skill but has since fallen to disuse, but it's beautiful regardless. "This is– Did you make it yourself?"

There's a shy nod from Yixing, which is absolutely endearing, but Junmian's expressions are scrunched up into one of displease when he hears it. "Is that why your fingertips are littered with wounds?" 

Yifan's stomach drops, because the last thing he'd want is for Yixing to get hurt _because_ of him, and the realisation leaves him winded. Since when have things changed so drastically between them? 

Yixing, on the other hand, quickly hides his free hand behind his back, while the fingers of the other that's holding his wine glass curls into his palm, as though trying to hide the evidence from Junmian and Yifan. "It's nothing I'm not used to. Some minor injuries are to be expected when you do embroidery," he says sheepishly. "You don't have to worry about it, Yifan. Truly."

Knowing there isn't a point in reprimanding Yixing further, Yifan only smiles and takes a whiff of the scented pouch, and instantly feels a lot more relaxed than he had been at the start of the party when the scent of sandalwood hits his senses. It only makes his smile grow wider. "But where did you pick this up? It can't be easy, doing embroidery."

Yixing shifts a little uncomfortably in his position, but he lifts his chin moments later and grins bravely. "Do you remember the _place_ I told you about, and the skills we were required to pick up whilst we were living there? This is one of it. I guess it comes in handy now."

While Yifan is surprised at the ease at which Yixing's better able to bring up about his past now, he's also rather glad that Yixing can hint to Yifan about the _xianggong tangzi_ without succumbing to an emotional breakdown in public, unlike the first few times Yixing had talked about it. It's a sign that Yixing's slowly stepping away from his past, and Yifan's delighted for him. 

They all have to banish the ghosts of their pasts eventually, and Yifan's more than happy to be there for Yixing as he goes through this harrowing process, to be there to support Yixing whenever he needs it. Yifan is of course the same, and he knows that he'll have to admit to the world – or even just to Feifei, really – about his personal preferences eventually. One step at a time. 

"Thank you for the gift, Yixing. I'll make sure to keep it well." He promises, toasting Yixing yet another time. 

Yixing only beams brightly when he toasts back, and says, "Happy birthday, Yifan."

Yifan finds himself drowning in Yixing's dimple all over again.

 

╫

 

Feifei confronts him later that night, when all the guests have left and it's only the two of them in his residence, the way he knew she would the moment she'd interrupted his conversation with Yixing and Junmian, her face almost red from anger. "Why do you insist on talking to that lowly performer, even when you're surrounded by people of power? Do you know several of them have told me how upset they are that you had snubbed them for someone not of importance?"

Yifan's temper flares, because how _dare_ she. How dare they. He mutters a string of colourful curses under his breath, then runs a hand through his hair to compose himself. "He has a name. It's Zhang Yixing, and he's my _friend_. I'm sure even you would never ignore a friend who makes it a point to answer to your invitations."

"He wasn't on the guest list," Feifei says coldly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Even the most beautiful of women could turn so ugly, when they're blinded by rage and unwarranted jealousy. Yifan really wants to escape from this toxic loop. Yifan wonders what the world would say if they could see her now; praise her beauty regardless, perhaps, because no one would ever think about crossing the precious daughter of General Wang. 

"He came here as Junmian's partner, which is as good as having me invite him. Why do you have to be so against him being present here, in _my_ home?" Yifan snaps back, feeling the fraying strands of his self-control slipping out of his fingers.

Feifei is, of course, fearless, when she turns on him again. "Because he _isn't_ going to increase your social standing! He's just going to bring you down, make you look like a petty commoner–"

"I _am_ a fucking petty commoner by birth, Wang Feifei! So why the hell are you agreeing to marry me?!" He bellows, and feels a twisted sense of satisfaction bubbling within him when he sees Feifei flinch at his intonation. Yifan has been trying to be the perfect gentleman for the longest time, pretending as though he'd been born into a life of wealth in front of the others who didn't know better about his background, but time and again Feifei challenges his patience, and it has finally worn thin. He _can_ marry someone he doesn't love, but he doesn't think he'll be able to live with someone who can't even respect his choice of friends. 

The expected backlash from Feifei doesn't come, though, which surprises Yifan more than anything else. Instead, Feifei inhales deeply, and turns on her heels to leave. "I think we're all exhausted tonight. I will see you in a few days. Rest well, Yifan." 

When the door finally clicks shut, the sound reverberating through the still air of the lobby, Yifan sinks back into the settee and drapes his neck over the backrest, squeezing his eyes shut to dispel the oncoming headache. It's so fucking exhausting, having to argue with Feifei about Yixing whenever they're both in the same room, and he wishes there's a way he could escape from this somehow. 

It's something he doesn't want to think about right now, though, and Yifan digs around his pocket for the scented pouch Yixing had given him earlier that evening. _It can ward off your headaches from staring at your work for too long_ , Yixing had told him, _and you'll be able to relax, too._ He holds it against his nose, taking in the scent with several slow, deep inhales while letting Yixing's words flood his mind, and finds himself sinking into a surprisingly easy slumber that evening, despite the less-than-comfortable position.

Yixing's smile is the last thing he thinks about.

 

╫

 

There's always a sense of calmness that envelopes him the moment Yifan steps into a place of worship, and he wonders if it's because of the sandalwood incense that burns all year round in these places. _Sandalwood aids in relaxation_ , he's been told by Yixing during his birthday party, when Yixing had given him a scented pouch filled with the material. It's been several weeks since that day, but Yifan's still keeping the pouch close to him. It helps him sleep better at night, at least.

Jing'an Temple is their latest destination in Yixing's personal tour package for Yifan around Shanghai, its golden roof tiles glistening in the late autumn sun and proffering a breathtaking view on its own. Different halls housing various deities surround them as they step out into the main courtyard, and Yifan trails after Yixing as he heads towards the Guanyin Hall to pay his respects next. Yifan may not be a staunch believer of his religion, but he doesn't mind having to do this once in a while, offering his prayers to the gods who are watching after them from above. 

After all, Yifan wants to believe that his prayers would be answered eventually, no matter how small the hope. 

Winter has taken siege of Shanghai, however, leaving thin blankets of snow covering the ground, and Yifan shivers a little in his overcoat when an icy cold breeze swirls in the air around them. Beside him, Yixing's dressed in a white _changshan_ with intricate red flower motifs, a reminiscence of the blood red petals blossoming in Spring, and he has a white fur coat thrown around his shoulders, making him look a lot more like an angel than he had before. It's surreal, how Yixing can look so effortlessly good even when he's off stage without the face paint to conceal what little flaw he has, and his skin practically glows in the mid-morning glare from the snow. 

And – Yifan's a little ashamed to admit to this – Yifan finds himself getting distracted by the sight of Yixing, who's pressing his palms together, eyes closed in a silent, sincere prayer. He has half the mind to enquire what Yixing had asked from the Goddess of Mercy, but Yifan knows that Yixing would most probably reply him with a mysterious smile and tell him that it's a secret. 

Just as well. Yifan's mother had told him this once: _if you tell others of your deepest wishes, the ones only meant to be shared between you and the deities guarding us from above, then you will be jinxing it from becoming true._ Yifan wants Yixing's wishes to come true, no matter what it is. 

"I hope you managed to find peace by having me bring you here," Yixing quips the moment he straightens himself, a soft smile on his features as he leads Yifan out of the Guanyin Hall. 

Yifan's momentarily stunned, because _had_ he been so transparent to the world with his problems? The only thing he's capable of uttering as he makes after Yixing though, is a confused, "I'm sorry, what?"

"You seem troubled these days. More so than before," Yixing admits with a shy dip of his head, and his cheeks take on a rosy shade of pink which Yifan knows is not from the cold of the snow. Yixing greets several others who recognise him on their way out, but his attention returns to Yifan almost immediately after. "I apologise; I couldn't help noticing whenever you're around."

Somehow, it makes Yifan's pulse race to know that Yixing's paying so much attention to him. In Yifan's eyes, Yixing's living the perfect life, being able to befriend anyone as he pleases and to live life the way he wants to, without anyone else telling him what to do. And Yixing is simply so _beautiful_ , delicate in ways that Yifan is not, and Yifan honestly has never met someone quite like him. He finds that he _wants_ to get to know Yixing even better, discover all the little secrets and quirks that no one else in this world does of him. Yifan also wants to share his own secrets with Yixing, knowing that the man will never judge him no matter what, and it rather scares but excites Yifan at the same time, because no one else has ever made him feel this way. Not Zhongda; not even Jingxiu. 

"It's fine. Noticing, I mean. I have nothing to hide from you," Yifan tells him honestly, watches as the smile blooms once again on Yixing's features and steals his breath away. "But you know how it is between Feifei and I. She–" _Doesn't like it when I speak to you, because she thinks you're not worth my time,_ Yifan wants to say, but holds himself back in the nick of time, knowing that Yixing will definitely distance himself from Yifan the moment he discovers that he's the source of Yifan and Feifei's constant arguments. Yixing is just so noble, and would probably hate to be the igniting factor for any squabbles, but Yifan almost can't bear the thought of not seeing Yixing ever again. In the end, Yifan settles for a vague, "–she's difficult. You know how daughters of wealthy families are." 

It's a safe answer. Yixing doesn't question him in depth, either, always giving Yifan some space and allowing him to divulge as much information as he's comfortable with. For that, Yifan is thankful. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Yixing hedges, but Yifan shakes his head with a small smile in response. 

"I'd rather not. It's not something which can be settled by just talking about it," he says, because it's true. Unless and until Feifei would stop looking down on those who are less fortunate than her, Yifan has no doubts that things will remain this way. "Let's talk about something happier." 

"Such as?" Yixing questions, his eyes lighting up. It warms Yifan's heart. 

Yifan finds himself chewing on his bottom lip, though, when something else pops up in his mind. "Your relationship with Junmian. Is there... is there something going on between the both of you?" It's genuine curiosity which pushes Yifan to ask Yixing, because he's seen the way Junmian looks at Yixing, as though Yixing's the only person he can see in the entire world. He's not blind, of course; Yifan's parents would always look at each other the exact same way, with stars in their eyes, whenever they think the other party won't notice them. Yixing, on the other hand, is terribly close to Junmian, and Yifan's chest twists with a profound sense of jealousy, even though he knows he shouldn't feel this way. 

Yixing seems stunned for a long moment, before he laughs and guides Yifan further away from the Jing'an Temple. After all, the sanctity of the worshipping grounds shouldn't be tainted by their upcoming conversation. Even if Yifan has spent a significant amount of his life living abroad, he understands that much, and respects it all the same. 

"I will be honest with you; Junmian has confessed his feelings for me once, long before you came to Shanghai," Yixing admits with a small voice, hiding his face further behind his fur coat, and it's only then that Yifan realises he's actually _embarrassed_.

"So..." Yifan starts, trying to find the proper thing to say. "Are you two _together_?"

Thankfully, Yixing's quick to catch on to the meaning behind Yifan's words, and he whips his head towards Yifan with his eyes wide moments later. "No!" He exclaims, the colour of his cheeks darkening further. "Oh god, no. We're not. We're nothing more than friends. I don't– I don't feel the same way about him. He knows it," Yixing amends, then says in a smaller voice, "But it's also partly because of what I've experienced at the _xianggong tangzi_ that makes me somewhat afraid to have someone else in my life."

Yifan nods, because he _understands_ , even if he's never been in Yixing's position. Yifan can't imagine how it must be like for Yixing, to have been sexually abused by other men when he was still so young, and the scars that litter his body – visible or not – must be a terrible reminder of that period of time. But it doesn't stop Yifan from feeling _disappointed_ , though, and he realises with a start that some part of him had wanted to have some _thing_ more with Yixing.

He stops fighting against his latent feelings, just a little bit more. 

"Does that mean you're interested in women, then?" The question is tumbling out of Yifan's mouth before he can even stop himself, and he flushes red in embarrassment at the lack of filter. "Sorry; you don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

"It's fine," Yixing touches Yifan's arm with a reassuring smile. The warmth from Yixing's palm lingers on Yifan's skin, through the thick layers of his clothing, even after Yixing has removed his hand. "No secrets between us, remember?" 

"Yeah," Yifan affirms, remembering the pact established between them at the Bund. They made a promise to never hide anything from each other, and would bring the other party's secrets to their grave. Yifan is still very much determined to uphold it. 

"So no, I'm telling you now that I'm not interested in women," Yixing admits with a small, shy smile, not quiet meeting Yifan's questioning gaze. "After everything I've been through, it's rather difficult for me to imagine myself being with a woman." His cheeks turn a deeper shade of red at this point, and Yixing absently scratches the side of his nose, the atmosphere promptly turning awkward. "I, um. Accidentally walked in upon my co-stars – Changmin and Song Qian – having sex in the dressing room once, actually. But I, uh. Can't imagine myself being in the same position. I guess I can safely say I'm attracted to men?" 

That definitely isn't what Yifan has been expecting, but he isn't complaining, either. Having Yixing being interested in men, just like Yifan is, meant that Yifan still has a shot at this. 

"Then–" Yifan begins, pausing in his steps so that Yixing would follow suit. Above them, a light snow has started to fall, covering their hair in speckles of frost. "–will there be a day when you'll finally open up your heart and to love someone, should the right person come along?" 

Yixing only smiles mysteriously in response, but Yifan doesn't miss the way Yixing blushes an even deeper shade of red when he meets Yifan's gaze. 

"Come what may, Yifan. Come what may."

 

╫

 

_running on the music and night highs  
but when the light's out  
it's me and you now, now_

 

Even as his wedding date draws closer and the preparations for the big day grow more hectic, Yifan still finds the time to meet up with Yixing – in an increasingly frequent manner, no less – all while juggling his obligations with the military. As usual, Yixing would bring him to new places around Shanghai each time, telling Yifan of its rich history and significance like a true native of the city.

Nevertheless, what intrigues Yifan the most is the Southern accent Yixing would slip into whenever he's happy or excited. It reminds Yifan fondly of Guangzhou, of _home_ , and he rather misses his family whom he hasn't seen in a while. Even though Yifan still receives letters from his parents very frequently – it's an added perk which comes with his title, to be able to keep in touch with his family members whenever he pleases – it just isn't the same. No one ever speaks in the Southern dialect in Shanghai, only in thick Shanghainese with completely different vocabularies and pronunciations from the dialect Yifan's used to, and while he is proficient enough in Shanghainese, there are still times when Yifan would find himself terribly lost in the conversation, particularly when there are lapses of attention on his part. There are also times when Yifan would feel a little more at home when he hears other merchants conversing in English, a language that's incredibly foreign yet makes him feel more belonged than the thick curl of tongue around words that surround him on a daily basis in Shanghai. 

It's a good thing Yixing and Junmian would speak to him in the official Beijing dialect; at least Yifan doesn't feel alienated when he's with them. 

In fact, when Yixing lapses into the Southern accent in an increasing frequency to answer Yifan's many questions, Yifan actually makes it a point to ask Yixing about it.

The look which Yixing gives him – wide eyes, slow blinks, mouth slightly agape in surprise – is utterly adorable. "Oh," Yixing gasps, when his brain finally catches on to the turn of events. "I didn't realise that I'd been speaking with a Southern accent. I tend to get influenced easily by those whom I'm talking to." 

Yifan actually laughs and shakes his head in amusement. "It doesn't quite make sense, though, for you to possess such a thick Southern accent, even if you _are_ influenced by me. It's just not possible, and you've been living in Shanghai all your life. I don't even use my Southern accent all that much." 

"Well, about that," Yixing begins, and from his peripheral vision, Yifan notices that Yixing's chewing on his bottom lip in hesitation. "I wasn't born in Shanghai." 

That new piece of information has Yifan stopping dead in his tracks and looking at Yixing in question. "What do you mean by that?" 

As with all the other times Yixing had talked about his past, he begins with a deep inhale to calm his nerves, eyes shut for a long moment and throat working to prepare himself for the inevitable. It's almost as though Yixing keeps forgetting that Yifan won't even think of judging him for his horrible past, but Yifan has long since learned to be patient with Yixing, letting Yixing take as much time as he needs to ready himself. Yifan would hate it himself, if others were to rush him through painful memories which are better left forgotten. And, despite Yifan's constant reassurance that Yixing doesn't have to talk about his past if it makes him uncomfortable, Yixing would always shake his head and put on a brave smile for Yifan, before telling him that _but I want you to know this, when no one else would_.

Somehow, it makes Yifan feel that he holds an important position in Yixing's life, to be privy to such massive secrets.

"I was born in Guangxi, actually," Yixing confesses, and Yifan can feel an invisible lump getting stuck in his throat. "My parents died early, from the plague, and that was how I found myself at the orphanage. Back then, the owner of the orphanage struggled to even put food in our mouths, considering the amount of children who suddenly found themselves without their parents but are too lucky to die along with them because of the famine brought on by the plague."

Yixing's body shakes at the recollection, though Yifan has to physically stop himself from wrapping his arms around Yixing's smaller frame. They're in public, after all, and such gestures would be heavily frowned upon. It doesn't stop Yifan from pulling Yixing towards a more secluded part of the block, though, where he could pour his memories out without fear that someone else would overhear them. 

Yixing merely flashes Yifan a small smile of gratitude, before continuing on with his story. "That was when a wealthy merchant dropped by at the orphanage, looking for children to adopt. I'm sure you know it's fairly normal for the upper class to not have children of their own." Yifan nods, and gestures for Yixing to keep going. "The man took an instant liking to me, and offered a handsome sum of money to the owner. He took it, of course, the owner, and allowed me to go along with the merchant, thinking that I would live well with my new 'father'."

"But he turned out to be the owner of the _xianggong tangzi_ you had ended up being trapped in, wasn't he?" Yifan asks with a soft, gentle voice, wanting to lift the burden of words from Yixing's shoulders. Yixing's already curling into himself by this point, arms wrapped around himself as he shivers at the memory. 

Despite his initial cautiousness though, Yifan's heart absolutely breaks at the sight of Yixing being so terrified of the ghosts of his past still, and he throws all his reservations out of the window, stepping forth to hold Yixing in his embrace once again, much like the previous time when Yixing had first told him of his traumatic childhood experience, but not without pressing a chaste kiss to Yixing's forehead first. Even if Yixing had been offended by his bold move, he doesn't push Yifan away, instead curling his fingers into the thick fabric of Yifan's coat to hold himself together. 

Yixing doesn't shed a single tear this time, though, which is a huge improvement in Yifan's eyes, that he's slowly stepping away from these demons of his memories. "He couldn't have known what sort of monster he was selling me off to," he mumbles moments later, and Yifan nods, tucking Yixing's head beneath his chin. 

"Those monsters will never lay a hand on you again. I promise," Yifan breathes, hand rubbing soothing circles into Yixing's back. 

"I still miss home. I really do," Yixing says again, and Yifan's heart clenches in response. He can't imagine how Yixing would feel, returning home to Guangxi where there won't be anyone to greet him, nor would anyone be able to remember his face. It's been _years_ since he's come to Shanghai as a child. Things change. People change. And then there was the war. 

"Have you ever been anywhere else, apart from Shanghai?" Yifan braves himself to ask, even if he knows there's a possibility that it might hurt Yixing. He doesn't know what to think when he can feel Yixing shaking his head against the bottom of his chin, but Yifan makes his decision in a heartbeat. 

He's going to bring Yixing back to Guangzhou with him. 

 

(No one talks about the way Yifan had pecked Yixing on his forehead in that secluded alley in Shanghai, or how Yixing hadn't pulled away when he had the chance. No one is brave enough to delve deeper into the meaning behind Yifan's gesture.

And frankly, they're both secretly contented enough to leave it at that.)

 

╫

 

Yifan returns home later that evening to the sight of Feifei sitting on his settee in a Western dress – it's the first time he's ever seen Feifei in one, considering her affinity for _qipao_ s; Western dresses are unflattering to her figure, she says, even when she chases after the Western way of life – arms crossed in front of her chest and expressions stormy. He almost asks how Feifei had managed to get into his house at all, when he remembers that she'd hired a servant for him before his birthday party. Said servant is still lurking somewhere in the mansion, he supposes; he doesn't see much of the man, and his servant knows better than to disturb Yifan when he hasn't been called, too.

"Hello, Fei. What brings you here at this hour of the night?" Yifan greets good-naturedly as he takes a seat in the armchair across Feifei. Her scowl darkens further, evidently displeased that Yifan should pick a seat so far away from her. The incident at Feifei's residence remains fresh on Yifan's mind, though, and he would rather not have a repeat experience of having to reject Feifei again. 

Coming out of the proverbial closet is much harder than Yifan expects. 

Instead of answering his question, though, Feifei angrily averts her gaze. "Where have you been all evening?"

Yifan knows a landmine when he sees one, and Feifei's anger might as well _be_ one. He half-considers telling her the truth, but knows that Feifei will blow up the instant Yixing's name leaves his lips, so he decides to choose his words carefully instead. "I was out with several merchant friends. Business discussion." 

"Was it so important that you could _conveniently_ forget about your promise to have dinner with me this evening?" Feifei asks again, and Yifan winces internally. _Shit_ , he curses, because Yifan had remembered about the dinner date with Feifei until Yixing had asked Yifan to go on a walk with him. Perhaps it's for the best that Feifei doesn't find out about the truth. 

"I'm sorry, Fei. Several of them are due to head off for another district in the morning. There was no way we could have rescheduled it otherwise," Yifan continues lying through his teeth, crossing his fingers and hoping desperately that Feifei would not see through it. 

"At least have the decency to let me know." Her words are scathing, filled with anger, and Yifan actually feels guilty for having stood her up. It's not fair for Feifei, he knows, but there's nothing he can do right now apart from apologising. 

"I really, really am sorry, Fei. Can we do dinner in two nights' time instead–?" 

Apparently, it's the wrong thing to ask, because Feifei's already on her feet in a renewed fit of anger in the very next moment. "We have a _dinner_ with Father in two days, Yifan!" She hisses, and Yifan wonders if there'll be an end to his constant screw-ups. Feifei shrugs him off when Yifan tries to reach for her, and fixes him with the most enraged glare he has ever seen on her features. "You better not forget it this time, or you can forget about being transferred back to Beijing for the rest of your life." 

The sound of the door slamming shut in the wake of the clacking of Feifei's heels against the marble flooring reverberates through the house, and Yifan suddenly feels extremely exhausted. He drapes his neck against the backrest of the armchair, swallowing thickly as he tries to make sense of what had just happened, but no matter how he sees it, it's Yifan's fault for being unable to ignore his blossoming friendship with Yixing, despite the fact that his wedding date is fast looming.

 

╫

 

"You're going on a long leave? Now?" Luhan quips in surprise when Yifan slides the documents across the desk and picks the file open, before staring back up at Yifan in a perfect mixture of confusion and awe.

Yifan frowns a little at Luhan as he leans back into his seat. "Why is that such a surprise? Everyone has to take some time off work, don't they? Besides, it's been a long while since I've last seen my family," he says, all while hoping that Luhan wouldn't question him further. Yifan's fast running out of ideas to parry Luhan's many enquiries. 

"It's a surprise because it's _you_ ," Luhan tells him, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. And, when Luhan senses Yifan's confusion, he heaves a long sigh that almost comes across as condescending. "You've never taken any leave of absence in the entire time I've known you, Yifan. You'd exchange letters with your parents in Guangzhou, yes, but you've never voluntarily returned to Guangzhou if you could help it. Don't think I haven't an idea about the rift between you and your parents, when you decided to leave your studies in England and to return to serve the army here." 

Yifan swallows hard at Luhan's words, because it's true. His father wasn't exactly the happiest person around when Yifan had appeared at the doorstep of his home in Guangzhou out of the blue, fresh from running away from his feelings for Zhongda and wanting to start anew, because he thought that Yifan had thrown away the perfect opportunity to get himself a proper education with the help of his friend. Yifan had lied to his father that he intended to serve the army back then, to fulfil his responsibilities as a citizen of the People's Republic of China, but right now, Yifan realises that perhaps it wasn't the brightest of ideas. 

True, he has a decent rank to show off now, but at what cost? 

Yifan rubs the tip of his nose and averts his gaze, hearing Luhan heave another sigh before he starts flipping through the documents on his desk, accompanied by the sounds of him stamping the seal of approval on each page. "It's been years, Luhan. I feel like we need some closure at one point in time, and it's better now than never. At least my old man wouldn't criticise me for not having anything to show, after I'd quit my studies on a whim. He wouldn't have let me live it down otherwise." 

"And he still won't. England was a massive window of opportunities, and you know that," Luhan tells him, his voice soft now instead of reprimanding. Yifan understands Luhan's concerns, he really does, but a family can only remain angry at each other for so long. "There's something more to this, isn't there? With Zhang Yixing involved, perhaps?" 

Yifan stills in his seat, despite every conscious effort not to. Suddenly, the weight of the pair of train tickets to Guangzhou is much too heavy in the pocket of his trousers. He's always known Luhan to be observant, but not _this_ observant. 

"What are you talking about? Don't be silly, Luhan," Yifan tries to laugh it off instead, but he knows that his efforts are futile when Luhan's hand stops mid-motion, and the man looks up at him again. 

"You and Yixing are pretty close, aren't you? I've seen the both of you countless times on the streets. You seemed rather happy being around him, and he, you." Luhan points out, and Yifan swallows nervously again. 

"If you're trying to get me to admit to something I haven't done, you're doing a terrible job." 

" _Am_ I?" Luhan challenges with a slight quirk of his brow. Yifan tries really, really hard not to squirm under the scrutiny. "You're so wrapped up in your personal bubble of bliss most of the time, that you wouldn't have noticed even if I'd walked right up to you, Yifan." 

There's something _knowing_ in Luhan's words that makes Yifan sigh in resignation. "We're just friends, Luhan. I only intend to bring him on a short travel because he's never been anywhere else apart from Shanghai," he admits in the end, but Luhan doesn't exclaim in triumph like he usually does when Yifan concedes an argument. Instead, he leans closer to his desk, watching Yifan with a serious expression. 

"I've seen the way you look at him, Yifan. And I'm sorry for bringing this up, but it reminds me a lot about the way you used to look at Jingxiu, like he's the only one you can see in the world," Luhan says again, and Yifan really can't think of anything else to refute his words. He'd been in love with Jingxiu once, before the war had torn them apart emotionally. As much as he wants to deny it, Yixing makes him feel the exact same way Jingxiu did – happy, free of worries, like nothing could go wrong in the world as long as Yixing is with him. 

But Yifan isn't going to admit this to Luhan, no matter how hard he tries to force the truth out of Yifan. In the end, he employs the only method he knows will get him out of this discussion: running away. "Come on, Luhan," he chides, tone light now, "can you please get a move on with the documents? I have to meet up with Feifei and General Wang for dinner in an hour, and I would really like to get ready by then. Feifei will have my head, _literally_ , if I were to be late." 

If Luhan can see through Yifan's intentions, he doesn't call Yifan out on it. Instead, he obliges with Yifan's request, signing off the rest of the pages of his documents before handing the file back to Yifan without another word said. 

Just as Yifan's about to leave, though, Luhan sends him another short advice that makes Yifan pause in his steps. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Yifan. You're playing with fire." 

Yifan merely lowers his head, and shuts the door behind him without responding to Luhan's words. He can't seem to shake off the feeling of Luhan's concerned gaze boring into his back, even though it's been long after he's left the military administrative building.

 

╫

 

Yifan honestly doesn't know what to think about the turn of events that particular evening.

It's not as though he'd meant to intrude on someone else's private space, really, but he didn't really have the option of saying 'no' when General Wang had sent him to Feifei's room to fetch her the moment Yifan had arrived at their mansion. It's the first time Feifei hadn't been there to greet Yifan when he paid them a visit at their mansion, and Yifan's equally as curious, thinking that Feifei might still be upset with him for having forgotten about their dinner date several nights ago. 

He pauses at her door, however, when he hears soft moans coming from within, followed by muffled giggles which trail off into more breathless sounds of pleasure. Yifan knows better than to knock and to announce his presence in such a manner, but it doesn't stop him from pressing his ear against the door to have a better listen, in case his head is playing tricks on him. 

What he doesn't expect, though, is for the door to be slightly ajar, providing him with the view of Feifei's room. Just as he's about to leave, Yifan finds his eyes widening in surprise when he catches sight of Feifei lying on the bed completely naked, facial features contorted in pleasure as a head bobs between her legs which are spread apart. What astonishes him even more is the fact that the head of hair decidedly belongs to a _woman_ , and when said woman pushes herself up on the bed to meet Feifei's lips in a searing kiss, Yifan recognises her to be Meng Jia, Feifei's personal maid. 

Yifan definitely doesn't miss the way Feifei looks at Meng Jia with a gaze filled with affection, and realises that Feifei isn't that different from him, after all, that this must be why he has always felt that Feifei's hiding something from him. It makes them even, when it comes to their personal secrets.

This is where the realisation hits him harder, regarding the reason why Feifei's so adamant with sticking to their marriage arrangement. People like _them_ will never be accepted by society, if they're ever discovered. He's seen the disgust on some of his fellow soldiers' faces when they'd found out about his relationship with Jingxiu, and the ostracism that came with it after. 

Silently, Yifan slinks away from Feifei's room before he's caught, deciding to keep this to himself. They're all entitled to their own secrets, and Yifan will use this as a leverage to convince Feifei to call off the wedding later, when he's out of his wits' end.

 

╫

 

Yifan removes his fedora and ducks beneath a particularly low beam as he walks into the loft, being careful not to trip over the uneven steps at the same time. For all the months he's come to know Yixing, Yifan hasn't exactly been _inside_ Yixing's home; he'd wait for Yixing downstairs whenever he drops by, since Yixing would be ready to go by the time Yifan arrives for their next adventure. This is the first time Yixing has ever invited Yifan to enter his home, though Yifan can vaguely guess the reason behind Yixing's initial reluctance in doing so.

Yixing's home is a tiny loft on the second floor of a row of shop houses, nothing like the huge mansion the government has provided Yifan with, and certainly a far cry from Feifei's residence, considering her father's rank and extensive influence in the military. Yifan has always known Yixing to be humble, but there are times when the nagging suspicion that Yixing's somewhat ashamed of his background would kick in. This is one of those times, when Yixing flashes Yifan with an awkward smile and apologises for the cramped space. 

"It's nothing like your residence, I know," Yixing tells Yifan as he leads him further into the loft, "but this is all that we can afford after the war. I'm sharing the space and rent with my fellow actor in the troupe, by the way. Bian Boxian. He's one of the other _dan_ who's slightly beneath me in terms of rank, but great company."

"It's fine. I've lived in worse conditions. I'm not as wealthy as you think I am, you know," Yifan says with an encouraging smile, because it's true. His own home in Guangzhou used to be shabbier than this, before he'd started sending his wages to his family once he'd been promoted to a higher rank with greater perks. It's only after years and with the end of the war in Guangzhou that his parents could build a more comfortable place for themselves, after all. "And oh, is Boxian the one who plays the role of Lady Yu's court maid? I like his voice, too."

"Hmm, it's a little difficult for me to imagine that. You not having the amount of wealth you do now," Yixing glances at him thoughtfully, taking in the sight of Yifan in an expensive tailored suit which looks absolutely out of place in Yixing's loft and against Yixing's choice of _changshan_. Yifan shifts awkwardly, and rather wishes he'd dressed down instead. Feifei had insisted for breakfast that morning, and there was no way Yifan could have rejected her request. What the lady wants, the lady gets. "Don't let Boxian hear you, by the way. He won't stop gloating for _days_ from the praise if he does."

"If it makes you feel better–" Yifan teases, quickly changing the subject and diverting it away from the topic of his almost non-existential wealth. "–I like your singing voice a lot more than I do anyone else."

Instead of the playful retort Yifan has been expecting from Yixing, the man blushes a pretty shade of pink, surprising Yifan. "Thank you. No one has ever told me that before." 

It's now Yifan's turn to be taken aback. "Not even Junmian?" He asks, because Yifan had expected Junmian, of all people, to compliment Yixing for his abilities when no one else will, considering his affections for the opera singer. 

Yixing shakes his head no, a thin smile on his lips as he leads Yifan into his private space. The setup of the room is clean, minimal, a perfect reflection of Yixing's personality, with only a four-poster bed in the corner, a wardrobe, and a table in the centre. Of course, treasured accessories from his roles at the theatre have been pinned up on the wooden walls, alongside an elaborately beaded costume of red and gold. 

"That's the first outfit I've ever worn for a performance, when I had just started out as a _huadan_. You could say that owner of the troupe, Xiche, is very kind to me." Yixing tells him when he catches Yifan appreciating the garment. There's a pensive smile playing on his lips when Yifan turns to look, and it's obvious that Yixing holds high regards for this Xiche person. "I'm only thankful that Xiche took me in and sheltered me from the people in the _xianggong tangzi_ I was in." 

"Didn't you say that the _xianggong tangzi_ you were sold to was situated in Shanghai?" Yifan inquires, wondering how Yixing had avoided detection for so long. He's discovered that the _xianggong tangzi_ have all been shut down by the government officials years ago, when they'd found out about the distasteful nature of their business. But still, it doesn't explain how Yixing had managed to hide himself for so long, when Shanghai is only so big, and the nature of his profession doesn't exactly aid in shielding him from public eye. His heart clenches when he realises how Yixing might have spent years being cooped up in the theatre whenever he wasn't due to perform, waiting and waiting for the people from the _xianggong tangzi_ lurking out there to forget that he ever existed. 

"It was," Yixing confirms, and the discomfort is gone as soon as it had appeared. "I suppose that's where the face paint helped me. No one at the _xianggong tangzi_ knew that I could sing or act, so no one thought of looking for me here, despite knowing that we could very well have branched off into being opera singers from the skills we've attained at the Houses." 

Yifan stops himself short of asking Yixing if he'd see the men who had violated him in the _xianggong tangzi_ there at the theatre, realising that it could potentially trigger a myriad of unwanted memories for Yixing. He doesn't doubt that Yixing _had_ , indeed, caught sight of their faces in the crowd, but Yifan hopes for Yixing's sake that he didn't break down right then and there. He knows Yixing is a strong person by nature, otherwise it wouldn't have explained how Yixing had managed to get so far on his own two feet. 

It's one of those things that Yifan admires most about Yixing, after all. 

"By the way," Yifan says in lieu of changing the topic, knowing that Yixing isn't exactly comfortable with talking about the _xianggong tangzi_ for prolonged periods of time, even though he's made significant progress in not falling apart the moment he thinks about it and the memories associated with The House. "I got these for you." 

At the very least, Yifan manages to distract Yixing from his darker thoughts, and it warms his heart to see the way Yixing lights up when Yifan begins digging into his pocket for the train tickets. "What is it?" Yixing asks excitedly, only to have his jaw hanging wide open when Yifan passes his ticket to him. 

"It's a train ticket. To Guangzhou." Yifan says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, suddenly finding it difficult to explain himself. He hadn't talked to Yixing about this, him wanting to take Yixing to Guangzhou with him for a short trip, and he suddenly realises that he doesn't know what Yixing would think about it. Doesn't know what Yixing thinks _of him_. No one had brought up about the kiss Yifan had planted on Yixing's forehead the other day, either, and their relationship hangs in a precarious balance at this particular moment. 

_Had_ he screwed up?

It's a long while more before Yixing manages to find his voice, and his words come out shaky, his gaze still fixated on the train ticket in his hand in utter disbelief. "B–but why?"

Yifan tries to shrug as nonchalantly as he possibly can. "You said you haven't been anywhere out of Shanghai. And you mentioned that you missed Guangxi, so." 

"You didn't have to–"

"I _wanted_ to," Yifan interrupts him with a smile, pulling Yixing to sit on the stool beside him. "You sounded sad, talking about your hometown, and I _don't_ like it when I see you being upset," he continues telling Yixing, hoping that the man will be able to understand his feelings, his good intentions. In Yifan's eyes, Yixing's smile is the most beautiful feature, and he doesn't want Yixing to ever lose it to anything at all; not now, and certainly not ever. 

Yixing falls silent again at Yifan's words, thumb rubbing absently over the words printed on the ticket, and his eyes are brimming with tears when he looks up at Yifan once more. 

Suddenly afraid that he's taken his gestures a little too far, that he might've gotten ahead of himself, Yifan chews on his bottom lip in uncertainty. "Why are you looking at me like that? Don't you want to go with me?" 

As if waking up from a trance, Yixing exclaims with a loud "No!", a little too quickly that his cheeks colour once again. "I mean, I would _love_ to, but..." He pauses again, stunned and uncertain. When he speaks up next, his voice is meek, nothing like the headstrong person Yifan has come to know and like. Yifan can't say he's not endeared by this side of Yixing, either. "Weren't they expensive?" 

Yifan's eyes widen at the question, not having expected it, but _of course_ Yixing would be worrying about the price of the train tickets. The tickets don't come cheap, especially after the war period, and even though Yixing has never talked about his allowance at the theatre, Yifan has no doubt that they're not exactly well-paying, either. Yixing's home is more than enough proof of it, even for a _huadan_ of his status and popularity. 

"Nothing is expensive for someone of my rank. And you don't have to pay me back for the tickets, either. It's a gift. For you." Yifan says in the end, a little too wryly, too afraid of offending Yixing and ruining the fragile friendship they have. It's not as though he doesn't acknowledge the situation for what it is – those who are in power will always be wealthier than common citizens, obscenely so, and he hopes to change that one day. For now, it's a common fact that no one talks about, for fear of offending the authorities and getting hauled into jail for insubordination. The ruling regime can be so, so cruel. "It's just two trips, one there and another back. Don't mind it too much."

"But–" Yixing stutters again, falling silent when Yifan fixes him with a stern look to not argue with him over the payment of the tickets, then fiddles with his long, slender fingers when something else comes to mind. "I have a show in five days–"

"It has already been taken care of," Yifan says, surprising Yixing further, and he really hopes he doesn't sound overly eager to go on this trip with Yixing. Just the two of them, to Guangzhou. The thought of it makes Yifan dizzy. "I spoke with the house manager before I came over. He agrees that you need to take a break from performing. Boxian will take your place in the meantime." 

Perhaps it's a combination of his intentions of seeing his good friend taking on a more important role in the theatre, and his acceptance that he will never win over Yifan in this argument, but Yixing agrees with a shy nod of his head in the end. "Okay," Yixing says, almost breathless, and there are stars in his eyes when he meets Yifan's gaze next. "Okay, I'll be more than glad to go with you."

Yifan gives himself a pat on the back, feeling glad that things didn't go horribly wrong like he had expected it to in his head, and he tries not to grin too widely from joy, either.

 

╫

 

"You're going to Guangzhou? With _Major General Wu_?" Boxian half-screeches at Yixing when he's done talking, and Yixing is lucky enough to have ducked out of the way just as Boxian launches himself at Yixing. Knowing how excitable Boxian can get sometimes, Yixing doesn't doubt that Boxian would wrap his long fingers around Yixing's neck and shake him hard, possibly in an attempt to jolt the sense back into Yixing. The light in Boxian's eyes tells Yixing that his friend isn't exactly thrilled with the idea of Yixing going on a private trip with Yifan, but it's not as though Yixing can back out of the promise now, not when Yifan has already bought his share of the train ticket.

Yixing had initially contemplated on not telling Boxian, but disappearing from his home for an entire week without Boxian's knowledge seemed like a terrible idea. Boxian's highly protective of Yixing, that much he can see, and he'll definitely be worried sick if Yixing left without leaving a message. That, and Boxian's probably going to launch a missing person's report at the police station immediately if he doesn't return by nightfall on the day he leaves for Guangzhou with Yifan. Yixing barely holds back the full-bodied shudder at the thought that he'll find a police squad at his doorstep while at Guangzhou.

It's going to be a mess to explain, either way. Telling Boxian in person seems like the lesser of two evils. 

"Boxian, calm down. It's not a big deal." Yixing sighs, rubbing at his temples in dismay. He's only thankful that he'd waited till they were home before he had broken the news to Boxian, or the news would have otherwise be known by every single person in the theatre by now. "It's just a short trip."

" _Just_ a short trip?" Boxian repeats incredulously, mouth agape. " _Ge_ , you don't _just_ go on trips with anyone else, not with what had happened in the _xiang_ –" Yixing's expressions must've turned ashen by then, because Boxian seems to have thought better of his words and rephrased himself. "My point is, you're a lot closer to Jin Junmian, and you've been acquainted with him far longer than you have known Wu Yifan. What made you decide to go on a trip to Guangzhou with Wu Yifan?" 

Now that Boxian has put things into perspective for Yixing, he finds himself at a loss for words, mouth opening then snapping shut. Boxian has a _very_ valid point, but somehow, he finds himself wanting to trust Yifan with all his heart. The man has never crossed the line of impropriety in all the times Yixing has spent being alone with him, even though Yifan has, on more than one occasion, made his sexual preferences clear. Yifan doesn't even leer at Yixing like all the other lecherous men who have laid their hands on Yixing's body – in the past or otherwise – which Yixing is more than grateful for. 

Being with Yifan makes Yixing feel comfortable in his own skin for once, and having told Yifan everything about his appalling personal history, Yixing can actually forget about being self-conscious around Yifan, when it becomes clear as daylight to him that Yifan isn't someone who'd judge Yixing for a past he could not control. 

"He bought a train ticket for me without my knowledge, Boxian. You know how expensive those things are. I can't possibly bring myself to reject his kindness," Yixing says; warmth creeps up to his cheeks when his argument sounds weak even to his own ears, and he positively flushes when Boxian raises a knowing brow at him. 

" _Can't_ –" Boxian challenges, and there's a teasing lilt surrounding his words. "–or _won't_? You like Major General Wu, don't you?" 

"I–" Yixing stutters, shocked beyond words that Boxian had arrived at such a conclusion, and he feels utterly flustered as he scrambles to find something to say, _anything_ at all to stop that growing smirk on Boxian's lips. "–don't jump to silly conclusions as you please, Boxian. Yifan and I are nothing more than friends." 

Instead of badgering him further for answers, however, Boxian actually mellows down into a soft smile, reaching forward to hold Yixing's hand in his. "You're the only one who knows how you truly feel about Major General Wu, and trust me when I say you've never looked at Major General Wu _just_ like a friend. I won't stop you from going on that trip with him, but I do hope that you'll stay safe, _ge_. I do not wish for your past to haunt you ever again."

Yixing swells with warmth deep within, and he's more than glad to have a good friend like Boxian, despite the fact that the man _can_ get on his nerves sometimes. Boxian is always genuinely concerned about Yixing's welfare, considering how they've originated from the same _xianggong tangzi_ , but in a sense, Boxian had been luckier to have escaped from the hellhole early on, and thus hadn't suffered from as many nightmarish experiences as Yixing had. He's happy enough to have someone who'd willingly lend him a listening ear whenever he needs to let off some steam, and Boxian is precisely that person for him. 

Smiling, Yixing wraps his arms around Boxian's slighter frame and pulls him into a hug, because it's the only way he knows to show his gratitude. "Thank you, Boxian, but don't worry about me. I know how to take good care of myself." 

Boxian tightens his hold around Yixing, and mumbles a soft, "I know you will, Xing," into Yixing's shoulder. 

_I just want you to be happy_ , Boxian has told him before, and the words ring in his head once again. It feels so utterly warm, even though they're in the middle of one of the harshest winters they have come to know.

 

╫

 

_'cause when you look like that  
I've never ever wanted to be so bad, oh  
it drives me wild_

 

The weather in Guangzhou is much warmer than Shanghai's had been for the peak of winter, and it's something which Yifan is thankful for. Despite having lived abroad for several years of his life, Yifan has never been one to enjoy the colder seasons, much less winter when it's snowing hard. Zhongda used to tease him for it, calling him with odd nicknames whose meanings are only known by Zhongda himself. Ever the prankster, Zhongda is. Yifan smiles a little at himself at the memory, and wonders where they might be standing by now, if Yifan had been brave enough to pursue something more serious with the boy who possessed a catlike-grin whenever he's with Yifan.

Right now, though, Yifan is more than content to be with Yixing, and he casts a fond look at the man who's walking in step with him. Instead of the usual fancy _changshan_ s which Yixing would don whenever he's out and about on the streets of Shanghai, a fur coat thrown around his shoulders when winter had struck them hard, Yixing had opted to dress simpler on his trip to Guangzhou with Yifan. Yifan had been surprised when Yixing had met him at the train station hours ago, eyes going wide at the sight of Yixing dressed in Western attire which comprises of a thicker coat, dark purple vest thrown over a woollen shirt, a similar coloured scarf wrapped around his neck to keep him warm, and a pair of dark brown slacks which shows off the curve of his hip and the toned muscles of his legs. Yifan has never seen Yixing like this, thinking that Yixing's an extremely traditional person down to his way of dressing, but apparently he'd thought wrong. 

"I didn't want to seem out of place on the train," Yixing had explained when he had caught Yifan staring for too long a while, and Yifan had rightfully blushed at being caught. "Boxian thought this would fit me well. Do I... look odd?" 

"No!" Yifan had yelled and attracted far too much attention than was really necessary, and he'd cleared his throat awkwardly to the sound of Yixing's tinkling laughter. Yixing is just so incredibly endearing. "I mean, no. You look good. _Really_ good. The clothes really do complement you well."

Yixing had worn a pleased smile at Yifan's compliments ever since, and wasn't even bothered to hide it like he usually would. In fact, Yixing's even chattier on the train, engaging Yifan in lively conversations on their otherwise dull trip to Guangzhou. It makes Yifan happy, and he thinks that the embarrassing moment at the train station was well-earned. 

The moment they'd arrived in Guangzhou, Yixing had been very eager to explore the town from the get-go, eyes wide and bright as he takes in the brand new scenery all around them, almost like a little child who'd been given an interesting toy to play with. The thought in itself makes Yifan's heart twitch a little when he remembers the rough childhood Yixing had been through, and the luxuries of life and free will which have been robbed from him, but he swallows hard and lets the feeling pass. Yixing's safe now, with him, and Yifan is more than eager to keep it that way. It's a shame that Guangzhou doesn't boast as many sights to see as Shanghai does, but Yifan makes do by bringing Yixing to the places which hold a lot of memories precious to Yifan. Yixing hadn't minded, and said that any place that's related to Yifan will be interesting to him so it doesn't even matter. 

Towards the end of the day, though, the nervousness starts to take over Yifan's being. He intends to pay his dear parents a visit – Yifan had written to them the day he had decided to take Yixing along with him to Guangzhou, telling him of his impending visit and his intention for a dear friend of his to experience some place out of Shanghai – and is about to bring Yixing to his family home. In the eyes of others, his plans might not mean anything else, but to Yifan, it actually holds great significance, for he wants his parents to meet Yixing and hopefully approve of him.

Yifan knows he's supposed to bring Feifei along with him to Guangzhou in order to meet his parents, considering her upcoming status as his legally-wedded wife, but he doesn't want Feifei to criticise his family's lack of wealth. Her mouth distinctly lacks a proper filter for her words when she's around people who are less fortunate than she is, and Yifan would rather not have her offend his parents on their very first meeting itself. It's probably for the best that his parents do not find out about his marriage in the meantime, either. Related by blood or not, Yifan doesn't think that Feifei nor General Wang would be very accepting of his parents. Their lack of desire to even ask Yifan about his family members, despite the fact that their wedding date is less than two months away, is more than enough proof of it. 

"You seem fidgety today," Yixing's voice suddenly breaks through Yifan's line of thought, making him jump a little from shock. It only makes Yixing scrutinise Yifan's features with greater concern, though, and Yifan tries not to squirm. "Is there something wrong?"

Yifan shakes his head no, because it's the truth. Everything has been going as planned today, and Yifan can't ever ask for anything else. "I'm fine. I'm just feeling apologetic that I couldn't show you anything more than this. Guangzhou isn't a very interesting place to begin with."

Yixing laughs at his words, shoving playfully at Yifan. The gentle breeze carries the scent of Yixing's soap and feeds Yifan's senses with it, and he barely holds himself back from holding Yixing tight to take another whiff. "I told you, it's fine. I'm happy enough to be able to escape Shanghai for a little while."

"I'm glad to hear that," Yifan smiles sincerely, but his smile freezes a little at Yixing's next question. 

"I've been meaning to ask – does Miss Wang know of this? Of me taking this trip with you? She didn't seem too fond of me being around you, the last time I'd met her at your birthday event." 

In fact, Yixing had been so on point with the latter part of his comment that Yifan can't even hide the flinch that takes over his features. He hates seeing the worry that seizes Yixing's face. "She does," Yifan admits, however, knowing that he won't be able to run away from the subject forever. "She was quite upset when I told her I was leaving for Guangzhou for a week, with our wedding looming and all. But I told her I had to settle some private matters here, and she gave in without a fight."

It's a lie, of course. Knowing Feifei's personality, she'd insist on coming with Yifan to Guangzhou no matter what, and even if Yifan objected against it, she'd still purchase her own tickets and make her way to the district. He figures that it wouldn't matter if Feifei doesn't know about his trip to Guangzhou, or the fact that Yixing's coming along with him; it would be the best for the both of them, and Yifan would really hate to get embroiled in a greater argument with his fiancée. It's not as though they haven't been arguing enough over the last couple of weeks, over the smallest and most trivial of things no less. It's frankly exhausting, and Yifan really doesn't look forward to living a life under Feifei's complete control. 

If Yixing suspects Yifan of hiding something from him, it doesn't show. Instead, his tone is serene as he says, "Okay. Where do you plan on bringing me next?" 

Again, Yifan's overcome with nervousness at the question, feeling unsure if Yixing would actually welcome his whimsical decisions. Even though Yifan's a lot closer to Yixing than he is to everyone else, and Boxian has told Yifan that Yixing hasn't been going out very often with others apart from Yifan, they've never exactly talked about their relationship. Yifan senses that something has changed since the day Yifan had handed Yixing the train tickets to Guangzhou, but he can't put a finger on _what_ exactly it is. Yifan knows he's pushing it, but good things only come to those who are bold enough to take risks. Yifan understands this well enough, through his years of military training. 

"My parents' home," Yifan informs Yixing in the end, and smiles as naturally as he can to conceal the butterflies in his stomach. "It's been a while since I've seen them, too, but I'd really like it if you could come along with me to meet them. They're very accommodating of my friends." 

Although Yifan had half-expected for Yixing to refuse, his heart actually threatens to leap out of his throat from joy when Yixing grins back at him moments later. 

"I'd love to."

 

╫

 

Light snow is falling upon Guangzhou by the time they emerge from the interior of Yifan's family home, cheeks tinged pink behind their scarves, both from the cold and the alcoholic drinks Yifan's parents had served. Yifan is by no means a lightweight when it comes to drinking, owing to the amount of practice he's had being with the military, where it is customary for them to bring out the alcohol whenever they win a skirmish, but he feels a little lightheaded all the same.

 _You can never have too much to drink, especially when you don't even know when you're going to die_ , they would always say as they serve up another beer, forcing Yifan to drain the glass in one go. It's not as though Yifan has the choice to decline, when his then-superiors are the ones refilling his glass over and over again. 

Regardless, Yifan likes the pleasant buzz that's coursing through his system at this very moment, leaving his veins thrumming with energy and keeping him warm in this cold weather. Of course, there's also Yixing with his bright smile as he tries to shake off the snowflakes which have gotten stuck in his hair. Yifan laughs at the sight, before pulling Yixing to the side of a building to help him dust the snowflakes off. The streets of Guangzhou are quiet at this time of the night, and Yifan hopes Yixing will not be able to hear the beating of his heart against his chest from the lack of distance between them. 

"Here, put this on," Yifan says, pulling off his fedora and putting it on Yixing's head to shield him from further assault despite Yixing's continuous protests. 

"But your hair will be covered in snow," Yixing laughs lightly, but at least he stops attempting to pull the hat off, and merely stands still to let Yifan fix the rest of his outfit. Yixing seems so small, standing before Yifan like this. 

"It's fine," Yifan reassures him. "I'll live. It's not as though I haven't walked under heavy snowfall without a hat on my head after all." 

There's a blissful look on Yixing's features as he glances towards the night sky above them, catching more of the falling snow on his palm. The childlike innocence warms Yifan's heart; at least Yixing trusts him enough to let the last of his reservations go. He's seen the guarded way Yixing had talked to him in the very beginning, but Yifan's glad that the man has slowly opened up to him over the last couple of months. It wouldn't otherwise explain why Yixing had agreed to come along to Guangzhou with him, when he's never done the same with Junmian. 

"What are you thinking about?" Yifan breaks the silence with a question when Yixing's thoughts seem to have drifted off, but a smile quickly takes over Yixing's features. 

"The snow in Guangzhou seems different. Beautiful." Yixing sighs contentedly, shivering a little in his coat before wrapping his arms around himself. His dimple is showing again, drowning Yifan with its beauty. 

Yifan chuckles at the notion. "If only because you're away from Shanghai, where you've grown accustomed to the snowy skies. I used to be like that, you know. Amazed by the night skies of a brand new locality." 

"What changed, then?" Yixing muses, this time cocking his head to the side and watching Yifan with interest. 

The lump in his throat is gone as soon as it had made its presence known. Yifan averts his gaze. "The war. It changes everyone. Everything." There's a long moment of silence, which feels as though Yixing _knows_ what Yifan is thinking about, and he's allowing Yifan the luxury of quietude to collect his thoughts. Yifan truly appreciates it, and he inhales deeply when the initial surge of unwanted emotions finally tides over. Yixing's waiting with a patient smile when Yifan turns back to glance at him. "All that is behind us now, though. I guess I can start enjoying life the way I used to in the past."

"That's a good thought to have," Yixing nods contentedly, before cupping his mouth with his hands and blowing warm air into the confined space when the ambience temperature dips further. They should really head back indoors where it's infinitely warmer than it is out here in the snow, but the scenery is far too mesmerising for him to think rationally. The alcohol running through his veins isn't quite helping, either, but there's no room for reason right now, when all Yifan can think of is Yixing, Yixing, _Yixing_. 

Yifan rather yearns to take Yixing's hands in his, to keep the younger man warm, but he's not sure if he can cross the fragile line between them. He doesn't want to trigger Yixing's unwanted memories with a misplaced touch. 

Wanting to distract himself from those thoughts, Yifan quickly scrambles for the next topic he can think about. "How did you enjoy my mother's cooking? And I hope my father hasn't intimidated you with his stern personality. He can be a little overbearing, sometimes." Yifan smiles when he remembers how his mother had doted over Yixing from the moment they'd stepped through the door, making sure to feed Yixing with as much food as she possibly can, and Yifan's caught his father's approving smile once in a while, when he lets his stern façade slip, and knows instantly that his parents are happy with his choice of acquaintances. It's a shame he can't come out to his parents, because at the end of the day, his parents' mindsets are still extremely conservative and traditional; liking someone of the same gender will never be acceptable to them, and Yifan will probably be slain to death if his father ever knew. 

There's something akin to melancholy tainting Yixing's smile when he speaks next, though, and it makes Yifan perk up in attention. "They're great people, and have been nothing short of nice to me. Your mother's dishes were delicious, too. Just–"

"Just?" Yifan prompts when the silence drags on for a little too long, but he instantly regrets it when Yixing lifts his gaze and Yifan catches the tears brimming in the corner of Yixing's eyes, glistening beneath the dim glow of the lantern. 

"It makes me miss my own parents more. I never really got to know them." Yixing replies, voice choked up with emotions, and it tugs at Yifan's heartstrings. "I just wish I could have a family like yours–"

Yifan silences Yixing by cupping Yixing's face with his broad hands, making sure that Yixing's attention is completely on him. It isn't easy to work up the courage, but Yifan really can't hold himself back, can't pretend to be blind to his own feelings any longer. And if he doesn't tell Yixing these words now, then he might never be able to find the bravery – or the opportunity – to do it again. "Then think of my parents as your own. Trust me when I say they really like you. _I_ really like you." 

Yifan's voice has trailed to a bare whisper by now, though Yixing's eyes are still bright when he catches Yifan's gaze, wide from surprise. It's possibly the most nerve-wracking minute of his entire life, waiting for Yixing's rejection to come, and Yifan repeatedly swallows his nerves down and strokes Yixing's warm cheek gently with the pad of his thumb. If Yixing ever wants to cut off all ties with Yifan and return to Shanghai on the very next day, Yifan doesn't suppose that he'll be able to stop Yixing from doing so, and while the thought of being unable to see Yixing ever again kills him, Yifan wouldn't want to be forceful in his actions, either. 

In this life, you win some, you lose some. At the very least, he'll have one final minute to be with Yixing like this, standing on a deserted street in Guangzhou and letting the snow fall on them, slowly but surely building up, memories and feelings alike.

He nearly forgets how to breathe when Yixing raises a cold hand and presses it against Yifan's warmer one already cupping his cheek, the hope burning bright in his eyes as he looks at Yifan. "Don't you feel appalled by my past? Bothered by the fact that I've been tainted by the hands of so many others?" Yixing questions, though Yifan honestly isn't surprised that Yixing's still bogged down by such thoughts. It's never easy, having to walk away from a dark past like Yixing's without the fear of being scrutinised with a critical eye, or hearing the malicious gossips which would definitely follow if word got out that Yixing used to be a part of the _xianggong tangzi_ , but that's where Yifan differs from the rest. 

"I would _never_ think about you in a negative light, because of a fate you couldn't have possibly controlled," Yifan tells him gently, leaning down to press his forehead against Yixing's. He watches in utter fascination when Yixing's lashes flutter shut, and he can feel Yixing's pulse racing beneath the pads of his fingers. "I like you, and nothing can or will change that, if you'll have me." 

"I will," Yixing whispers back, tilting his head upwards so that their lips are brushing against each other's with every syllable. "I will have you, if you'll have me too." 

It's all that Yifan needs to surge forth to meld their mouths together at long last, kissing Yixing gently beneath the falling snow, and Yifan smiles when he can feel Yixing sighing in content against his lips. 

There's nothing else that Yifan needs, when he has Yixing in his arms.

 

╫

 

There is no hurry in their actions when they finally return to the guesthouse, Yixing's fingers entwined with Yifan's as he leads Yifan into the room with a shy smile. Outside, the snow is still falling to the ground, illuminated only by the lamps hanging on walls, and Yifan can see it from his peripheral vision as they stand by the window, Yifan's hands resting on Yixing's hips and Yixing's arms wrapped around Yifan's waist.

"I like you. I really do," Yifan tells Yixing again, wanting the man to believe in him, because he's never felt this strongly about anyone else before – not Zhongda, and not even Jingxiu. It both makes him a little afraid but also excited about what this might mean, and Yifan's more than ready to embrace his feelings. He's had more than enough time to think about it. 

His heart threatens to burst when Yixing smiles at him and goes on tiptoes to kiss him again. "I know. I like you too." His words are bashful, but his actions are not when Yifan leans in to deepen the kiss, Yixing's body pressed flushed against Yifan's front. 

Yixing is incredibly pliant under his hold, melting into Yifan's embrace when Yifan wraps his arms around Yixing to steady him, and he's ever so ready to let Yifan slip his tongue into his mouth when Yifan prods at the seam of his lips. The kiss is controlled, nowhere near sloppy, and even though the thought itself is appalling, it's evident that the _xianggong tangzi_ had made sure to train its occupants well. 

Yixing's cheeks are tinged a beautiful shade of red beneath the candlelight when they finally pull apart for air, and Yifan can't stop himself from planting feather-light kisses on Yixing's forehead before trailing down to the gentle slope of his nose and finally ending with a chaste kiss on Yixing's lips. Yixing chuckles against Yifan's mouth, warm breaths fanning across his face, and Yifan honestly wants to live in this perfect moment of bliss for as long as he can. 

"You make me so happy. I want you to know that," Yixing breathes, burying his face in the broad expanse of Yifan's chest, his arms wrapped around Yifan's waist to keep himself anchored to reality. 

"And you I," Yifan admits with a smile, but a soft gasp is pulled out of his lips when Yixing presses in much too close, his belly brushing against Yifan's half-hard cock beneath his pants, having been turned on from kissing Yixing alone. Yifan immediately tries to pull away, embarrassed, but above all, he doesn't want Yixing to feel uncomfortable, doesn't intend for Yixing to think that he's obliged to help Yifan with his _problem_ when he might not be ready to undress in front of someone else just yet. Yifan's sure that being sexually violated repeatedly is a horrific experience, one which will need plenty of time to get over, and Yifan is more than willing to let Yixing take things at his own pace. 

Much to his surprise, though, Yixing's grip around his waist remains firm, and there's something akin to desire burning in his eyes when he looks up at Yifan. "Don't. Don't pull away." 

"But you–" Yifan starts, though he finds that he's suddenly at a loss for words when Yixing begins drawing idle circles on the small of Yifan's back, sending more sensations down south. He swallows, cursing his body for betraying his rational thoughts. "I don't want you to do something like this when you're not ready." 

"It's fine. I'm fine," Yixing promises, voice firm, and Yifan finds himself being inclined to believe in Yixing's words. "The nightmares haven't been bothering me much, lately, and I–" A pause. Yixing's throat works almost nervously, but the determination in his eyes doesn't waver in the slightest. "I want you, too. I've had years to get over what happened, and I'll never know if I'm successful enough if I pulled away. I would very much rather it's you than anyone else that sees me." 

Yifan plants a chaste kiss on the tip of Yixing's nose with his eyes closed, feeling the way Yixing tilts his head up to meet Yifan's lips with a gentle press of his own. "Are you really sure about this?" Yifan asks, and Yixing nods. There isn't an ounce of hesitation in Yixing's actions, if the steady rhythm of his breathing is anything to go by; Yixing would normally begin to hyperventilate when his memories are making him uncomfortable, and it's the only sign which Yifan needs to throw all his reservations out of the window, kissing Yixing back fervently. 

Yixing clings onto the front of Yifan's shirt desperately as he tries to match up to Yifan, as though Yifan is the lifeline that's keeping Yixing afloat in this vast world, and Yifan keeps him anchored with his hands firm on Yixing's waist. It seems that Yixing isn't embarrassed to explore, the flat of his palms running down the expanse of Yifan's chest before sliding beneath his shirt and up his bare skin once again, sending delicious shivers down Yifan's spine. 

He can feel Yixing laugh breathlessly into their open-mouthed kisses when Yifan bucks into Yixing's touch, Yixing's cool fingers having skimmed over his pert nipples, and Yifan frankly isn't going to let Yixing win this easily. He swallows the gasp of surprise that erupts from Yixing when Yifan hoists Yixing up from the ground, effortlessly carrying him to the bed on the other side of the room. 

His heart breaks a little when he realises just how light Yixing is, and makes a silent vow to bring him out more to get decent food around Guangzhou. 

Yixing's eyes seem to sparkle in the dimness of the room when Yifan finally places him on the bed and hovers over Yixing, and Yixing smiles warmly as he wraps his arms around Yifan's neck, chest heaving while he tries to catch his breath. "Don't hesitate," Yixing tells him, fingers drawing idle circles at the base of Yifan's neck, and Yifan shudders again from his fleeting touches. 

Yifan nods in understanding, knowing that Yixing wants this as much as Yifan does. "Tell me if you want me to stop at any given time." Yifan whispers before leaning forth to peck Yixing on the lips, and Yixing again smiles into the kiss. "The last thing I'd want is for me to hurt you." 

"You won't–" Yixing starts, only to have his words trail off into a silent moan when Yifan kisses his way down Yixing's jaw and onto his neck, nipping and biting along the way. As much as he's tempted to, Yifan refrains from making too obvious a mark on Yixing's neck and collarbones, because he doesn't think the face paint Yixing uses for his performances would be adequate to conceal the bruises which would surely blossom by the time the sun rises tomorrow, and might not fade completely even when they've returned to Shanghai. He doesn't want to invite trouble for Yixing; Yifan wouldn't be able to live it down if he did.

Instead, Yifan works deftly at unbuttoning Yixing's vest and shirt, which Yixing is more than glad to aid him in his mission by arching away from the bed so that Yifan could slide the clothing articles off him. He allows Yixing to do the same to him, trying to maintain a steady breathing pattern as Yixing noses at his sweat-matted skin, tongue darting out to lap a blazing trail against Yifan's neck. 

The moment his shirt is discarded to the side though, Yixing becomes infinitely more self-conscious, as though suddenly remembering what lies beneath the layers of fabric, his hands automatically moving to cover himself up. Yifan doesn't blame him; even in the dim candlelight, Yifan can see the scars marring Yixing's skin, all skilfully hidden below the neck so that no one else would be any the wiser, as long as Yixing kept his clothes on. His stomach churns when his mind unhelpfully wanders off to wonder what exactly have these men done to Yixing as a child, and the anger flares. 

"I'm sorry; I look hideous," Yixing whispers, his words sounding as broken as he probably is inside. He has his gaze averted, but Yixing makes no move to roll away. It saddens Yifan to think about how it's probably muscle memory working for Yixing, lying frozen in place instead of running away even if he wants to, because he'd be beaten up, _tortured_ by those men if he ever dared go against their wishes. "I should have known this was a bad idea. This – it's not fair for you to have to bear with this." 

Yifan supports his weight on his outstretched arms, putting as much distance between both their bodies as he possibly can. "I'll stop if you want to. I won't guilt-trip you into doing anything you're reluctant to do, but know this: you're beautiful to me, no matter what," he says, smiling softly down at Yixing as he strokes the apple of Yixing's cheek gently with his thumb. "And, although I know our circumstances are different – greatly so – but I have my own set of scars, too. If you're hideous, then I'd be ten, a hundred times worse." 

It's only then that Yixing finally glances at Yifan once again. There are tears in his eyes, expressions surprised and confused at the same time, but Yifan has always been a patient person. "What?" Yixing blurts, as if disbelieving of Yifan's words, but Yifan merely offers him a silent smile and gently takes hold of Yixing's wrist. 

"Let me show you," Yifan says, and when Yixing doesn't offer any resistance to what Yifan's about to do, he guides Yixing's hand towards his body, letting Yixing's finger trace the outline of a particularly large scar which runs down the front of his abdomen. "This scar was received two years ago, when I'd been rather green still on the battlefield. A katana wielded by a Japanese soldier had cut through me, and I had thought I was going to die then." 

There's a soft gasp coming from Yixing, evidently surprised to find the scar there when he hadn't seen it earlier, but Yifan doesn't blame him. There are so many scars littering his skin, all trophies from his battles with the Japanese over the years, that Yifan sometimes would forget where one would end and the other would begin. And then there's the phantom pain he'd have to deal with, on more nights than one. It hadn't been easy, walking away from his post-traumatic nightmares and ignoring the pain dealt to him years ago, and Yifan's still prone to the occasional lapses of panic, but he's come a long way since then. 

He's eager to help Yixing out, too, no matter how long it would take him. 

"I didn't know–" Yixing starts, but Yifan cuts him off with a shake of his head. 

"It's fine; I never really told anyone about them before, since it's only normal to receive them from the war," he tells Yixing, then guides him to yet another scar over his left chest, slightly above where his heart is currently beating steadily beneath the pads of Yixing's fingers. "They stabbed me once, here, too. The army doctor said I was lucky that the aim of the person who'd attacked me was off its mark, and had narrowly missed piercing through my heart with his sword." Yifan swallows at the memory. The only thing he'd remembered from this injury was the excruciating pain which had accompanied it, then he'd blacked out from the agony. Yifan had only regained consciousness almost a week later, having been knocked out by the pain, the fatigue, and the blood loss. _Consider yourself to be very, very lucky to have survived_ , the doctor had told him back then, and Yifan can't agree with him more. 

Much to his surprise, though, Yixing props himself up on his shoulders to press his lips to the scar on Yifan's chest, making Yifan's heart thump faster against his rib cage. "I can feel the pain from these scars, sometimes, and I've always wished that someone would be able to take the pain away for me, eventually," Yixing explains himself when Yifan glances down at him with an eyebrow raised. His hands are on Yifan's shoulders now to keep himself seated, and there's a shy smile playing on Yixing's lips at his confession. "I want– I want to be that person for you, too, if you'll let me."

There's nothing Yifan can do apart from cupping Yixing's cheek with a broad hand and smiling at him tenderly, gradually inching forth to test Yixing's response. By now, the last of Yixing's reservations and hesitation have been dispelled by Yifan's gestures earlier, replaced with the unconditional trust that Yifan will be gentle enough with him, and there's eagerness in his movements when Yixing leans in the rest of the distance to meet Yifan's lips midway, passion dancing in the light in Yixing's eyes when their gazes meet. 

Yifan doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget this night even if he wanted to, with Yixing's existence enveloping him and cocooning him in pure bliss.

 

╫

 

Returning from Guangzhou is like waking up from an extremely beautiful dream, one which Yixing very much wishes he could continue living in forever. Then again, they both had responsibilities waiting for them back in Shanghai – Yixing, his performing troupe and his home with Boxian; Yifan, his attachment to the military and the arranged marriage he can't seem to run away from. Responsibilities which they could not shirk, no matter how tempting it is to do so.

The entire week in Guangzhou hadn't exactly been spent touring the district, unlike Yixing had initially expected. Instead, Yixing's more than content to spend his time being as close to Yifan as he possibly can, letting Yifan explore every inch of his skin before he does the same to the other man. While Yixing had his initial reservations, he had decided to invest his trust in Yifan in the end. From the very moment Yifan had showed Yixing the scars littering his body and told Yixing that he didn't care about the ones left behind by the lecherous men who frequented the _xianggong tangzi_ , that he can only think about how beautiful Yixing is despite his past experiences, Yixing had realised how much he actually _loved_ Yifan, and wanted desperately for Yifan to be the one to offer Yixing refuge from his dark history. 

Yifan doesn't disappoint him, and he's so incredibly patient and gentle with Yixing, letting Yixing lead the way. He doesn't hurry Yixing along, allowing Yixing to find the things that he's most comfortable with at his own pace, one step at a time. Yixing is infinitely grateful for that, and his heart swells when he finally learns what it's truly like to make love with someone else. It's nothing like the rough way the men used to handle Yixing, or the way they would always chase their own pleasure while sacrificing Yixing's comfort in the process – _hurting_ him, even. 

Love is in the way Yifan slowly works up his pace, letting Yixing get used to the slow burn of his digits before adding another; the way Yifan presses soothing kisses and murmurs words of encouragement into Yixing's skin when he finally breaches Yixing's rim of muscles with his cock, allowing Yixing ample time to calm himself down and banish all ill memories associated with the act before Yifan finally begins to move. It's in the way Yifan maps Yixing's skin with his well-kissed lips, running them across the many scars on Yixing's body and taking away the pain associated with them; the way he kisses Yixing's forehead as Yixing continues rocking his hips down against Yifan's until Yifan comes inside him. It's also in the way Yifan pulls Yixing into his warm embrace when they're all cleaned up, boneless and sated but extremely happy that they're together like this, Yifan's arms providing a sense of security Yixing has never ever felt before. 

He's never been happier. 

Even on the train back from Guangzhou, they'd keep their fingers laced together beneath Yifan's coat, Yifan's thumb stroking the back of Yixing's hand absently. There's always, always a sort of tenderness in Yifan's eyes whenever he looks at Yixing, and Yixing falls head over heels in love once again. 

And then Shanghai Station comes into view, and the contact between their hands immediately break. They may be able to conceal the relationship between them in Guangzhou, where barely anyone knew them at all and their time is mostly spent between Yixing's sheets, but here in Shanghai, gossip spreads fast by those who happen to pick it up along the way, especially so if they're out to bring either Yifan or Yixing down. In the end, it all boils down to one thing – same-sex relationships are condemned to the pits of Hell. Yixing's seen it, two men being sentenced to death for engaging in sexually-deviant activities, and the way they'd been paraded around the city to be judged, mocked, ridiculed by the general public before their eventual execution. It had made Yixing sick for the rest of the week. 

Yixing may be accustomed to such humiliation, having received enough remarks in the _xianggong tangzi_ to last him a lifetime – _you filthy cockslut of a child, you'd do anything to be gagging on my cock while someone else fucks you from behind, won't you?_ – but he doesn't ever want the same fate to befall Yifan. He deserves better. Much better. 

And, despite Yixing's constant self-reminder that Guangzhou had been nothing but a dream, an experience he can never allow himself to relive for the sake of keeping Yifan safe, Yixing can't seem to stop himself from staying away from Yifan. It's then that Yixing realises he's already in too deep that he can't bear the thought of breaking it off with Yifan – whatever it is they have between them. Yifan, who's gentlemanly and a little bit awkward at times, but treats Yixing like he can't believe Yixing is giving him the time of his day at all. 

One night turns into many for them, with Yifan frequently making his presence known in the confines of Yixing's shared loft with Boxian when the night grows deep, with desperate kisses and sweet whispers exchanged between them. Boxian's warned him, more than once to _please, be careful, you're messing around with the fiancé of the General's daughter_ , but Yixing knows better. He isn't messing around with Yifan, and vice versa. He can see the love in Yifan's eyes when Yifan looks at him, gentle lips leaving its mark on Yixing's pale skin as he pumps Yixing to completion when they're lying side by side on the bed, their fingers intertwined in a silent promise that they'll be together no matter what happens. 

Above all, Yixing wants to hold on to Yifan's promise that he'll break things off with Feifei soon, because it's not a marriage of love and it's not what he's looking for, that _Yixing_ is what he's been searching for all this while.

Yixing has never prayed harder for anything else to come true, until now.

 

╫

 

_leave this blue neighbourhood  
never knew loving could hurt this good, oh  
and it drives me wild_

 

"You returned to Guangzhou to visit your parents and you never _bothered_ to bring me along?!" The scathing question is the first thing that Feifei throws at him the moment she barges in through the door of his study, where Yifan had been perusing yet another report about the Kuomintang's activities near the borders.

A headache assails Yifan almost immediately, and he impatiently puts his pen down on the table to regard his fiancée. Beautiful, beautiful Wang Feifei who ruins her own image by possessing an ugly personality. Yifan wonders just how many others in the world can see her for who she really is, beneath the seemingly amiable smiles and soft intonation. "Why is it such a big deal?" He asks, leaning back into his seat as he looks at her. Her features are twisted into an angry scowl, the lines of her shoulders tight from fury. If only the world knew. 

"We are getting _married_ , Wu Yifan, and you're asking me why this is such a big deal?" Feifei hisses back, taking slow, steady steps towards Yifan's desk. Her heels clack soundly against the rosewood flooring with each contact. "Is it not the norm for the bride to meet with her in-laws?" 

Yifan raises an unaffected brow at her. "You never struck me as someone who cared about traditions," he points out, and it's in every intention of his to remind her of the fact that she'd wanted to seduce him and get Yifan to bed her before they even tied the knot. Judging by the slight flush that colours Feifei's cheeks, he's sure that she'd managed to get his point just fine. 

"How _dare_ you–" 

"If you think I'm going to bring you along with me to Guangzhou, after hearing all your remarks about those who are less fortunate than _you_ are in terms of wealth, you're wrong," Yifan states bluntly, watching as Feifei turns from angry to outright shocked at his words. "Everything I have now, they're from the party. I was _born poor_ , just like everyone else you've mocked. There is no way I'd willingly subject my parents to your condescension, if I can help it." 

As expected of Feifei, though, she manages to school her features back into one of faux calmness within moments. "What are you trying to imply?" 

It's the window of opportunity Yifan has been waiting for all this while, to break things off with Feifei, now that he's made his stand clear that he will not tolerate Feifei's holier-than-thou attitude. "This isn't going to work out, Feifei. Let's call off the marriage. It will be the best option for the both–" 

"No. I will not," Feifei cuts him off, closing the rest of the distance between her and the table before pressing her palms against the tabletop, leaning in to hold Yifan's gaze. "Do you seriously think that I will, even for a moment, believe that this is the real reason why you intend to call off the wedding, after all this while?" 

Yifan keeps his expressions carefully neutral. "I don't know what you're trying at, Fei." 

"Your trip to Guangzhou wasn't made alone. You were with Zhang Yixing," Feifei's lips curl into a cruel sneer when the blood drains from Yifan's face. "Didn't expect I'd find out, did you?" 

"How did you–" 

Feifei sits herself on the edge of the table, leaning across it and silencing Yifan with the press of her finger against his lips. "I have my ways of discovering _anything_ I want to, Wu Yifan, and now I'm giving you one last chance." There's movement from Yifan's peripheral vision, and when he looks, Yifan realises that Feifei has hiked up the hem of her _qipao_ , revealing the white expanse of her thigh and the fact that she isn't wearing anything else beneath her _qipao_. If Yifan were any other men, he would have been aroused by the sight of Feifei's glistening wet folds – a sure sign that she'd been fondling herself earlier, or had made love with Meng Jia before she came here – but he's not. He can't change what he _is_ , and the reality remains that Yifan will only be attracted to men. 

It seems that the way Yifan averts his gaze instead of fixing it upon where Feifei wants it to be gives her all the answers she needs, because a derisive laughter is squeezed out of Feifei and she's drawing back immediately. "I knew it. You're _in love_ with Zhang Yixing. A _man_ ," she spits, placing emphasis on those words with an ugly scowl on her features, mocking Yifan for something he cannot control. "I didn't want to believe in the rumours about you and Du Jingxiu, but now– _Disgusting_."

He balls his fingers into fists, but Yifan isn't about to stand down. He's been meaning to tell Feifei for a while now, and so shall it be if she happens to find out in such a manner. He hadn't expected for a clean break, anyway, and he stops short of mentioning about the incident between Feifei and Meng Jia which he'd witnessed all those weeks ago. Perhaps it's a mere defence mechanism on her part, to not accept herself for her own skewed preferences, or perhaps it's the fear of being disowned by her own father, for acting upon what her heart wants and not what is _right_ that drives her to saying such hurtful words when she's just the same as he is, loving someone of the same gender. "Now that you know what I truly am, it's all the more reason for you to call off the wedding. Forget this arrangement ever happened. I won't be able to make you happy, and you _know_ it." 

Feifei looks at him as though he's gone insane. "I kept quiet about your past with Du Jingxiu because I didn't care. I only agreed to the marriage because _you_ have been touted to be given a prestigious ranking in Chairman Mao's government when this next war is over," she says, finally admitting to the reason behind her being so adamant in seeing their wedding through.

"You're going to suffer if you subject yourself to this," Yifan tells her, trying to infuse some sense into Feifei's head. It doesn't seem as though she's anywhere close to wanting to reason with him. "We both are."

"You think I care?" Feifei laughs harshly, the sound jarring against Yifan's ears. "My family needs that alliance, and I am not about to disappoint them to make _you_ happy. I have no idea where you came from, but know this – families of high social standing can never think about having their own happiness, and neither can you, from the very moment you have been promoted as someone of power and status in the military." 

Yifan steels himself. He has never really been one to bow down to power and oppression, and he's not about to start. Not when his relationship with Yixing is on the line. "And if I refuse?"

" _Listen_ , I will not stand to be insulted like this," Feifei hisses again, keeping her voice low but never losing that threatening edge. "I can ruin Zhang Yixing's life as easily as this–" She makes her point with a snap of her fingers, lips curling into a cruel smile yet again. It makes Yifan's stomach churn sickeningly. "I wonder what would the city of Shanghai think, when they find out that their beloved _huadan_ Zhang Yixing was actually a part of the _xianggong tangzi_? That he's nothing but a little child whore who got lucky with the Theatre? Perhaps, he's even letting Xiche prostitute him to keep himself there, hmm? A continuation of his dirty little life?" 

By now, Yifan has gone impossibly pale, his blood seemingly frozen in his vessels at the words which have left Feifei's rouge-painted lips, so incredibly cruel in its nature. He tightens his grip on the edge of the table when the urge to slap Feifei across her cheek for undermining Yixing's character so easily becomes too much to resist, but manages to hold himself back in the end because he's always been taught to never hit a woman, no matter how enraged he is. And Yifan is more than determined to not be the lesser person, to not stoop down to Feifei's level. 

Feifei seems to think that Yifan's silence is one of submission, though, and she pats Yifan's cheek in a condescending manner, the cruel smile still playing on her lips. "Now that we're in understanding, I trust that you will have no further objections?" She says, tone light as she slides off the table to stand on her feet. "The wedding will proceed as planned, and I will speak to my father about bringing it forth to next week." 

She doesn't even bother waiting for Yifan's word of protest, and walks out of the door, leaving Yifan behind with his chaotic state of mind. 

Later that evening, when all that's left is a neverending sense of numbness plaguing Yifan's mind, he makes his decision. Seeing that Feifei has issued an ultimatum for Yifan to stick through with the wedding or risk having Yixing's life and reputation ruined to the point of no return, Yifan _knows_ then that he needs to leave. He _needs_ to run away from the military, the party, _Feifei_. At the same time, he can't leave Yixing behind in Shanghai, for fear that Feifei would turn to Yixing for revenge in a fit of rage. Yifan knows very well what Feifei is capable of, and she definitely will not hesitate to take Yixing's life, if she has to. 

Running away meant that he'll lose his rank, his social status, his already-struggling family – every single thing he's fought so hard to earn with his own two hands – and it _hurts_ to even think about it, but it doesn't even compare to the hurt he feels when he thinks about not being together with Yixing. The mere thought of it helps Yifan make his decision: he _will_ desert the army, to a faraway place where he can be with Yixing without worries, where no one can ever find them, or possibly know of their past. 

The sound of his chair scraping against the rosewood flooring breaks the stifling silence of his study, when the sun has already set, and Yifan walks out of his mansion with a brand new resolve in mind.

 

╫

 

Yixing doesn't know why he's naïve enough to believe that no one else apart from Boxian would find out about his relationship with Yifan, but it doesn't stop him from being surprised when Junmian barges into his dressing room one evening, while Yixing's busy getting ready for his performance later that night, brush held against his eyebrow and about to paint.

"Why didn't you tell me you went to Guangzhou, with Yifan no less?" Junmian practically barks at him, cornering Yixing against the dresser. It's the first time Yixing has ever seen Junmian lose his temper – _at_ him, no less, because Junmian has always been a mild-mannered person from the very first time Yixing had gotten to know him – and it frankly scares him. 

Knowing that being defensive will only irk Junmian further, Yixing schools his features into a mask of calmness, carefully picking his words in his mind. He's only thankful that all those years of being a part of the Tian Chan Theatre has taught him how to be a fantastic actor. "It's not a huge matter, Junmian. Yifan wanted to bring me out of Shanghai, because I'd accidentally let slip that I've never travelled anywhere else,." he tells Junmian, carefully measuring the other man's expressions for any possible signs that Yixing might've said something wrong. "Besides, you were attending a business trip in Sichuan. I didn't want to be a bother, since you trust in Yifan." 

"It never stopped you from writing to me, regardless!" Junmian argues, and Yixing pales a little because it's true. Of all the years he's been friends with Junmian, Yixing had fallen into a habit of writing to Junmian whenever the other man had to travel out of Shanghai for long periods of time, telling Junmian of his days and experiences of interest. Somehow, the excitement of going to Guangzhou with Yifan had caused the matter to slip off his mind. 

"I apologise, Junmian. I promise it will never happen again," Yixing says with a guilty smile, praying hard that it'll at least soothe Junmian's anger a little. 

It doesn't, and a sharp gasp is startled out of Yixing when Junmian makes a grab for his right wrist, yanking Yixing forward almost painfully. Just as Yixing's about to ask what the hell Junmian's trying to do, the blood drains from his face when he opens his eyes and finds the bruise left behind on his wrist by Yifan when they'd made love the other day, dark purple standing out against pale white. 

"Are you out of your mind?" Junmian asks, his tone sharp, and Yixing flinches against his will. It only gives him away even more. "Getting involved with someone from the military will do you no good, especially one that's already betrothed to the daughter of one of the most influential Generals! You must leave him before you get yourself _killed_!"

Despite his initial intentions at keeping himself calm, the panic seizes Yixing at the thought of having to leave Yifan, and he wrenches his wrist out of Junmian's hold, cradling it in his other hand and attempting to shield the mark from Junmian's view, as though it would aid in Junmian forgetting it ever existed at all. "I can't, Junmian. That is one request I cannot comply with." 

Junmian exhales noisily and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "You're really out of your mind, aren't you? What do you see in him? You _barely_ even know him!" 

" _You_ are the one who barely knows him!" Yixing lashes back without putting in much thought, not caring that he's jeopardising his friendship with Junmian. In all the years he's come to know Junmian, Junmian has been nothing short of the supportive friend in Yixing's life, and Yixing's truly grateful for that. But he simply cannot ignore the fact that Yifan's the only one who can offer him the happiness he's always been searching for. "You don't know how well Yifan treats me, ever so respectful and gentle and kind, and not as a lowly _huadan_ who can be exploited against my consent. He knows of my history, and has never once judged me for it." 

"What history, and how would you know I'd definitely judge you for it? You haven't tried telling me, not even once!" Junmian asks, his tone bordering on incredulous by now, breathing laboured from anger. 

Swallowing hard, Yixing holds Junmian's gaze as he steels himself. "I was a child whore in the _xianggong tangzi_ , Junmian. Would you have looked at me the same way you do now, if you knew?" 

Junmian immediately pales, his mouth falling agape at the revelation, and his argument dies in his throat. Even though Yixing had expected this to happen, the wordlessness and the stunned silence, it doesn't stop him from feeling _hurt_ that Junmian would react in the same way as everyone else. And it's clear as daylight to Yixing now, that Junmian had only given him a second glance because of how appealing Yixing looks. 

"I couldn't– I didn't–" Junmian stutters, but Yixing refuses to listen to anything else. It would all be desperate words to cover up for his initial hesitation, and Yixing's already much too disappointed in Junmian. 

In the end, Yixing points a shaky finger at the door, voice quiet as he orders, "Leave." When Junmian doesn't move a single inch, Yixing inhales deeply and shuts his eyes, not wanting Junmian to see the tears of weakness as he repeats, more firmly this time, "I said leave!" 

He doesn't know if Junmian heeds his orders this time, but Yixing doesn't open his eyes for the longest time, until he hears the shuffling of feet in the room and a gentle hand on his outstretched arm. Yixing's fully prepared to yell once again, but the words die in his throat when he finds Yifan standing there in the room with him, sympathy on his features.

The small smile that Yifan offers him is the only thing that's needed for Yixing to break down completely.

 

╫

 

Yifan threads his fingers through Yixing's soft locks as they lie naked on the settee located in Yixing's private dressing room, gaze concerned as he glances at the man who's curled up in his embrace. Their clothes are strewn all over the floor, and Yifan's sure that someone will come knocking on Yixing's door soon to inform him that the show is about to start, but Yixing appears extremely out of it at the moment, and Yifan doesn't have the heart to remind Yixing about his responsibilities right now.

Yifan had meant to talk to Yixing about leaving Shanghai with him earlier, and had made his way to the Tian Chan Theatre when he remembered that Yixing will be putting up another show that evening, but he'd arrived at the dressing room to the sight of Yixing being involved in a verbal argument with Junmian. Despite his better judgement, Yifan hid himself in a darker corner to wait things out, but his heart had stopped when Junmian had asked Yixing to stop seeing Yifan. 

Then again, the worst thing that happened was probably the way Yixing had confessed about his past to Junmian, only to have his best friend freeze in his position and being unable to utter a single word about it. Yifan had only made his presence known once Junmian was out of sight, and approached Yixing in hopes of comforting his lover. Yixing immediately broke down in tears when he'd realised Yifan was in the room with him, but moments later Yixing had already latched his lips onto Yifan's, kissing him furiously and desperately, as though his life depended on it. One thing led to the other, and they'd both ended up making love on the settee, with Yixing riding Yifan's cock until they'd both reached their orgasm. 

When the silence drags on for too long, though, Yifan presses a gentle kiss to Yixing's temple to gain his attention. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, heart breaking all over again when he sees the pain in Yixing's eyes. 

"What's there to talk about?" Yixing laughs, the sound hollow and self-derisive. "A good friend of mine wouldn't even accept me for my past. It feels like everything was a lie."

Yifan wraps his arms around Yixing's smaller frame and pulls him close. Like this, he can feel their heartbeats beating in sync against each other's chests, and he never wants to let this moment go. "Maybe Junmian is just shocked to hear it. You know he's better than this. _I_ know he's better than this."

He can feel Yixing shaking his head at Yifan's comment. "It doesn't matter. Not any more," he says, voice muffled. "I pushed him away regardless. He wanted me to leave you, Yifan. I can't possibly do that. Not when–" A pause, and Yifan can hear Yixing swallowing against the lump of emotion stuck in his throat. "–not when I love you, so much."

Something within Yifan swells with emotions at the confession, because it's the first time Yixing has ever said those words to him. He tilts Yixing's chin up and swoops down to steal yet another kiss from the man, and Yixing responds just in kind, sucking on Yifan's tongue before biting down gently on his bottom lip. "I love you too, with all my heart," Yifan tells him when they finally break apart. He can feel himself growing half-hard again from the passionate kiss, and so is Yixing. But there are more pressing matters to talk about right now, and Yifan doesn't know when Feifei would act upon her words, to ruin Yixing's life if Yifan ever dares break his promise to marry her. "Let's leave Shanghai, Xing. You and I."

The words evidently surprise Yixing, whom immediately sits up on the settee to regard Yifan with confusion in his eyes. "What are you talking about, Yifan?"

"We should leave Shanghai behind. Find somewhere else where no one knows of us, or our pasts. Then we can live happily together," Yifan explains patiently, all while hoping Yixing would agree with his proposition. 

There's still hesitation dancing in Yixing's eyes when he meets Yifan's gaze once again. "But–"

Even if Yixing hadn't completed his sentence, Yifan knows what he wants to say, what his concerns are. The troupe, his beloved stage, Boxian. Everything Yixing has ever come to know and love is here, in Shanghai, and to leave this place behind on such short notice is definitely asking too much of the man. 

It doesn't mean Yifan won't try convincing Yixing to see things his way, however. He _can't_ allow Yixing to get hurt because of him.

"Feifei knows about us, Xing," he whispers, lacing his fingers with Yixing's and bringing their clasped hands to his lips as he holds Yixing's gaze. "She knows of our relationship, of the fact that you went to Guangzhou with me. I tried to talk her into cancelling our marriage, but she refused to back out of it. I will be getting married _next week_ , Yixing, and if I don't, she threatened to expose your past with the _xianggong tangzi_." There's a sharp intake of breath coming from Yixing, and Yifan tightens his grip on Yixing's hand, a silent gesture that he'll be here for Yixing no matter what happens. "I am not going to let her do that to you, but I can't stay here in Shanghai any longer. You can't, either. Even if I leave, Feifei will come for you."

Yixing's silent for a long moment, forehead scrunched as he tries to let the information sink in. Then, "If you leave Shanghai, wouldn't it mean that you're deserting the military?" He asks, to which Yifan nods, and Yixing's eyes go wide again, evidently understanding what would entail his bold act. No one leaves the army as they please, only if they've been severely physically impaired from the war. Any act of desertion is punishable by only one way – death by the firing squad. "You can't do that! I can't possibly let you sacrifice so much for my sake, when I can't even be sure if I can give you anything, or protect you–"

"I'm not asking for protection, Yixing. If anything, I should be the one protecting you instead." Yifan cuts him off gently, stroking the apple of Yixing's cheek with the back of his finger. "It's fine. As long as you're by my side, everything will be fine, and I won't regret this. I've thought things through. The military life is not one for me."

"We can never turn back, if we head down this route," Yixing says, shifting in his position so that Yifan's straddling his thighs. His mouth parts in a silent moan when Yifan leans down to kiss a trail down his chest, and he cants his hips upwards to meet Yifan's. 

Yifan slides one finger into Yixing's hole, already slick with his cum from earlier, and Yixing arches beautifully off the settee, his fingers digging into Yifan's biceps and leaving behind tiny red crescents. "I don't plan on turning back, as long as I'm with you." 

"Okay," Yixing says in between gasps later, when Yifan's already fucking steadily into him, hips meeting hips in a constant rhythm and filling the room with wet sounds of sex. "Okay, let's leave Shanghai. I'll go wherever you will."

 

╫

 

A pang of nostalgia hits him as Yixing sits himself before the mirror with a brush in hand, his face already dusted white with powder. Yifan had left Yixing's dressing room by then, leaving behind only the memories of them making love on Yixing's settee and a growing anticipation within Yixing for what's to come after this. He doesn't stop replaying Yifan's words in his head, though, remembering how Yifan had told him _I love you, I love you, I love you_ when he'd achieved his orgasm, mouthing feverishly at the pulse point on Yixing's neck as his hips slowly stills. In the mirror, his reflection pinks even through the foundation. He can still feel the warmth of Yifan's body surrounding him, the pulsation of Yifan's arousal in him.

Dipping the tip of the brush into a pot of rose pink pigment, Yixing begins to paint the area around his eyes in steady, even strokes. Although it's been years since Yixing had begun dabbling in the art of performing _jīngjù_ , he would always find himself fascinated by the way his features could be changed with his own hands, merely through the use of paint and several expert strokes of his brush. It's an invaluable skill he's picked up over the years, allowing him to hide behind the comfort of knowing that no one else would be able to recognise him when he dons his mask on stage. Like this, no one would be able to recognise him if they didn't see him backstage, and Yixing's more than fine with that, at least until his puberty period had passed and he'd grown into the man he is now. 

Once Yixing's done with the pink base, he opts for a different, slimmer brush to colour in his brows and to highlight the almond shape of his eyes with black paint, letting the contrast set in. By now, Zhang Yixing is momentarily wiped off the face of the Earth, replaced instead by the face of Lady Yu whose love for her beloved husband is unrivalled. Not for the first time, Yixing wonders how Yifan had managed to see through the many layers of Yixing's makeup to find the real Zhang Yixing beneath it, but he is glad, regardless. Apart from Boxian, no one else had bothered to get to know Yixing on a deeper level. Not even Junmian, for all that he proclaims to admire Yixing a lot and had even confessed his feelings to Yixing, had been able to uncover the truth behind Yixing's past. 

Yixing can't stop himself from toying with the notion that he and Yifan might just be destined to be together, after all. It wouldn't otherwise explain why Yixing could feel so at ease when he's around Yifan, or how Yifan had managed to worm his way into Yixing's heart and made Yixing fall in love with him so quickly. 

A smile spreads across his lips when he thinks about how he'll be able to possess forever with Yifan soon enough, and with another change of brush which Yixing dips into a pot of red paint, he outlines his smile with careful strokes and shapes it into one that symbolises femininity, before proceeding to pin his wig for the night onto his own hair, bit by excruciating bit. 

Just as he's putting on the finishing touches on his outfit before the mirror, someone knocks on the door of his dressing room raptly. "Yixing _ge_ , it's time for the performance," the voice calls out, and instantly Yixing recognises it to be Boxian's. Sadness fills his being when he thinks about the betrayal Boxian might potentially feel when he finds out that Yixing has left without telling anyone else, not even him, but he can't risk this. Yifan is putting his life on the line for Yixing's sake, and Yixing can't bear to jeopardise him even more. 

Holding himself together, Yixing keeps his voice steady as he calls back, "I'll be there in a moment," fixing his outfit to the best of his abilities. Boxian calls back an affirmative, and once Yixing's left alone again, he stares admiringly at his reflection in the mirror, running his fingers across the sequins on his robes, trying to remember every detail of his life at the Theatre before he bids it goodbye. 

Then, when he's ready, Yixing rolls his shoulders and puffs up his chest in pride, walking towards the door in sure, steady strides, showing no signs that he's about to leave all this behind by the time the night is over. 

It's time to put on his last performance for Shanghai.

 

╫

 

"You're insane." A shrill voice follows after Yifan as he paces around his bedroom, picking clothing items out of his dresser before dumping them into an open suitcase on his bed. "You're absolutely, a hundred and fifty percent, _out of your bloody mind_!"

Exasperated, Yifan pauses in the middle of folding a shirt and turns around to glare at the other man in the room with him. "Luhan, seriously, are you trying to alert my servant about me leaving?!" He hisses, crossing the room in several long strides to shut the door. Even though his servant hasn't done anything overtly incriminating to suggest that he's a spy planted in Yifan's residence by Feifei to monitor his movements, Yifan would rather not take his chances. The servant is, after all, hired by Feifei, and at this point of time, he can never be too safe. 

"No," Luhan has the audacity to scowl at Yifan, his hawk-like eyes following after Yifan as he crosses the room again, "but have you seriously thought things through? You _do_ know that deserting the army will earn you the death penalty, right?" 

" _If_ I get caught," Yifan reminds him. "I'll just have to work hard at not getting arrested by the military police. Why did you think I asked you to get the departure time of the next ship out to England?" 

"Which I _have_ ," Luhan defends himself by holding out a pair of tickets, and Yifan pockets them gratefully. For someone who's freaking out so much over Yifan trying to make a run for a foreign country in order to carve himself a new life away from the military and the land where his roots will always be entrenched in, Luhan's actually a really good friend. Yifan's going to miss him. "But I seriously don't get it. Is it worth the risk, to desert the army for Zhang Yixing's sake?" 

Yifan scrunches his nose and pauses in the middle of packing, thinking about the times he's spent with Yixing over the last couple of months, and how they'd been the happiest few months of his life. "It's not only for Yixing's sake. It's for mine, too. You know I can't marry Feifei, for the sole reason that I can't even see myself growing intimate with a woman. There's no future in our marriage." 

"But you're the one who agreed to the marriage in the first place, didn't you?" Luhan points out, leaning against Yifan's desk as he regards Yifan. Yifan kind of hates that Luhan has a point – a very good one.

"I didn't have a choice. Not exactly," Yifan wryly chews on his bottom lip. "If you were in my shoes, wouldn't you have found it difficult to say 'no' to General Wang himself, if he'd approached you and offered his daughter's hand in marriage?" It's common knowledge and practice for those who hold a high ranking in the military to marry their daughters off to other officers they deem worthy enough, if only because these officers would be promoted to a position of great power at the end of the day. And declining these offers would only put them in a precarious position, their actions often viewed as one of insubordination. It's an offer disguised as an absolute order, and Luhan should know very well how things are in the military.

At that, Luhan seems to have lost his will to continuously antagonise Yifan any longer. "I guess." He concurs with a frown. "Still, can't you talk things out with Feifei instead of leaving like this?" 

Yifan shakes his head, remembering about the time he'd gotten into a heated argument with Feifei and found himself with the date of their marriage brought forward to the coming week in the end. "I tried. I confessed to her about my interest in other men, that I can't possibly provide her with the happiness she's expecting from this marriage. She refused to listen, and threatened to expose Yixing's past to everyone of importance in Shanghai. I can't possibly let her do that to Yixing." 

Luhan's silent for a long moment, before he sighs and rubs at his temples. "You really do love him, don't you?" 

Yifan's hand slows at Luhan's question, and a small smile forms on his lips as he thinks about how happy Yixing makes him. He feels like he's fifteen and falling in love for the first time all over again, only better. "I do. He's everything I've been looking for and more. I've never wanted to protect someone as much as I do Yixing." 

The tension in the air dissipates when Luhan gives a full-bodied tremble, an act of teasing Yifan, and the smile surfaces at long last. "I never knew you could be _this_ greasy with your words. But I wish the best for both of you. Stay safe." 

"I will, Luhan. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart."

 

╫

 

They emerge on the docks shortly before midnight, where the ship Luhan had bought them tickets to is due to set sail by the time the clock strikes twelve. Yixing's face is devoid of the pink-and-white paint which has been a part and parcel of his life for the last couple of years by now, having been wiped clean before he'd left the theatre earlier, but he's still dressed in his beloved _changshan_ – this time white as the snow falling to the ground and onto his black fur coat.

Not for the first time, Yifan thinks Yixing is beautiful.

 _It feels like I'm stripping off a part of my identity, but only for something better in life,_ Yixing had told Yifan with a smile when they'd met up at the Grand Clocktower after Yixing's performance, just like they had promised to. Even if Yixing doesn't admit it, Yifan can see the reluctance in Yixing's eyes as he throws another look over his shoulders, in the general direction of the Tian Chan Theatre. It's not as though Yifan doesn't understand Yixing's feelings, though; the theatre and its performers are everything Yixing has ever known in this life of his, his saving grace from the cruelty and torture of the _xianggong tangzi_. He has half the mind to coax Yixing to stay, to forget about him, but this is where the selfish part of love comes in.

Yifan doesn't want to lose him, doesn't want Feifei to turn Yixing into the target of her misplaced anger. And hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, indeed. 

Instead, Yifan focuses on the way their fingers are intertwined as they hurry towards their designated ship, all while being vigilant for any signs that they might have been discovered. They're both silent, footsteps in the snow and the staccato of their breaths the only sounds punctuating the night, because there's nothing much to be said now, when they have forever waiting for them at the end of the harbour. They'll have the time to think back on their escapade and laugh at their boldness when they're really, _really_ safe, but as long as they're still in Shanghai, in the Mainland, nowhere is safe for them. 

Yifan's heart grows lighter when the massive ship comes into sight, and he can hear Yixing sighing in relief beside him, too. They're already so close to tasting freedom, that they can't help but grow more complacent, seeing that their journey from the Grand Clocktower has been uneventful so far. 

But they soon learn it's a grave mistake to be seen in the open, when a loud bark of command comes from their right, and a troop of soldiers wielding rifles converge upon them. Panic instantly engulfs Yifan, because _no_ , they couldn't have known so soon. They _weren't_ supposed to have known until Yifan and Yixing are safely at sea, heading towards a land where no one else knows who they are. 

Yixing makes a sound of protest when Yifan pushes Yixing behind him the moment Feifei emerges from the shadows with her father, trying to shield Yixing from view, but Yifan isn't having any of this. He's sworn to protect Yixing no matter what happens, and he definitely isn't going to let the military lay their hands on his lover. 

Trying to school his features into one of calmness, Yifan clears his throat and calls out, "Good evening, General Wang. What brings you here, when it's so cold out tonight?" 

It seems that Feifei must've filled her father in about the circumstances surrounding her need to bring their wedding date forward, and had possibly even weaved a web of lies about how Yixing had probably talked Yifan out of the agreement, because he glares sharply at Yixing before ignoring Yifan completely. Feifei's the one to step forward, the fury barely concealed on her features, even in the dark. 

"Enough with the small talk. Do you really think I hadn't expected for you to pull such a move? Running away when things are inconvenient for you?" Feifei practically hisses, eyes narrowed at Yifan, and by extension at Yixing who's hidden behind him. "That man has poisoned you."

"He's poisoned no one," Yifan speaks up defensively, warily looking around just in case any of the soldiers decided it would be prudent for them to suddenly launch an attack at the pair. "I told you, Feifei. I can't proceed with the marriage, and you know perfectly why." 

"Then you shouldn't have agreed to my proposition in the first place!" General Wang barks just then, making Yifan flinch from his intonation. "After all these times, you intend to call off the marriage? How am I supposed to deal with the embarrassment that entails?" 

Yifan almost wants to laugh. At the end of the day, the only thing they ever cared about is their pride, and how society viewed them. They probably wouldn't settle for anything less than having the ground that they walk upon worshipped by the masses, and it makes Yifan absolutely sick. He's not cut out for this life. 

"With all due respect, _sir_ , would you not have gone all out to ruin my life in the military if I were to say 'no'? Feifei has made it perfectly clear to me that this marriage is meant to keep _you_ in power, and we all know that I am touted to be promoted to a higher rank by Chairman Mao after this last war against the Kuomintang has been fought. Am I wrong?" Yifan challenges back, feeling Yixing's fingers dig into the expanse of his back from surprise. He hadn't told Yixing about the future he would have in the military, the party, in the event that he stayed. Yifan didn't think he needed to, when he's made up his mind to leave, already much too suffocated by the bureaucracy going on. 

Besides, ever since he's gotten to know and love Yixing, _their_ future is all that Yifan cares about. He can't see that for them, when they're stuck in Shanghai with precarious lines to toe. 

The silence from General Wang that follows Yifan's question is telling, and it's more than enough to answer him. 

"I'm willing to give you one last chance, Yifan. If you stick through with the wedding, I'll forget that this madness ever happened–" Feifei says instead. Then, when she finds that Yixing has stepped out of Yifan's back to reveal his face, points a finger at the other man. "–and his secret stays with me to the grave." 

As tempting as the proposition might sound, sacrificing himself and his happiness for the sake of allowing Yixing to keep his life in Shanghai, he also knows that Feifei and her father are capable of finding any loophole there is to twist their agreement around when things aren't going according to their plans. Yixing seems to think the same way, too, when he squeezes Yifan's hand and leans in closer to whisper, "No, don't do it. It's not worth the risk." 

Yifan finds strength in Yixing's words, and his tone is firm as he holds down Feifei's and General Wang's gazes. "I'm not taking it," he spits each syllable through clenched teeth, and immediately pulls Yixing along with him when he finds the opening he needs.

Unfortunately for them, however, the soldiers seem to already have received advanced orders to capture the pair the moment they make a move, because the group converges upon Yifan and Yixing at once. The look on General Wang's face is smug at the surprise on Yifan's face, and he barks out another order. "Break them apart!" 

In a moment of desperation, Yifan instantly makes a grab for Yixing when he feels his lover getting dragged away from him, but to no avail. Yixing had been caught off guard, making it easy for three other soldiers to completely subdue him, considering his lack in physique and training to go against them. 

"Yixing!" Yifan calls out, all while struggling against the soldiers who are holding him down, kicking out at them in hopes that he would be able to land a decent hit. "Don't fucking hurt him!" He hates that he can see the fear on Yixing's expressions, probably an ugly reminiscent of his days in the _xianggong tangzi_. He'd mentioned to Yifan once, that more than one man would book him for the night on occasion, and would dominate him together. There's no doubt that Yixing's remembering those dark times, if the paleness of his face is any indication of it. Yifan tries to wrench himself out of their death grip again. 

Feifei's emotionless as she comes face to face to regard Yifan, her fingers curling on the underside of his jaw. It doesn't seem to occur to her that he could hurt her from this distance – or, perhaps she remembers that Yifan can never raise a hand against a woman. Either way, a cruel smile soon takes over her features when Yifan snarls in frustration at her. "I've given you more than enough chances, Wu Yifan, but you've never accepted any of them. Why do such things to yourself?"

Yifan forcefully twists his head to throw off her grip. "I'd rather die than be a puppet to your family, and you can't even be truthful to yourself, when your heart lies with your maid," he spits, only to howl aloud when one of the soldiers digs the handle of their rifle into the base of Yifan's spine, triggering a sharp shooting pain down his legs. 

What Yifan hadn't expected, though, is for Feifei to deal him a backhanded slap at his words, and his cheek stings from the contact and the cold wind that bites against his skin. "If I can't have you, then no one else can. You will _pay_ for your betrayal." Feifei then turns towards the soldiers holding Yixing down, and barks out another order. "Take him away, and throw him into prison. Torture him as you will."

The panic rises with renewed vigour when Yifan finally manages to digest Feifei's words, remembering the torture regimes they've been taught while they were still in training camp, and there is no way he can allow these monsters to subject Yixing to such treatment, when he's done nothing wrong. Yixing's face turns impossibly pale too, but the fear has crippled him so severely that all he could do was to limply let the soldiers drag him away. 

"Yixing!" Yifan roars again – this time in unadulterated rage – and finally manages to pry himself out of the soldiers' death grips, tripping on his feet momentarily as he runs towards Yixing. He knows very well that he's at a severe disadvantage right now, being grossly outnumbered and without his weapons, but still Yifan's desperate enough to try. He can't possibly let them take Yixing away without due justification, and it's a blatant misuse of power which no one will report about at the end of the day. "Let him go!" 

That's when the sound of a gunshot reverberates through the air, and for a long moment, Yifan's frozen in his spot, thinking that the soldiers had shot _Yixing_ under the Wangs' orders. It isn't until Yixing had yelled _Yifan's_ name in agony that the sharp pain coming from his chest finally registers, that he realises that they'd shot _him_ , and Yifan sinks to his knees, mouth agape and hand pressed against the bleeding wound in his chest. 

In his daze, Yifan watches as Yixing finally wrenches himself free from the soldiers' hold, and Yifan whispers a pained _no, don't_ when Yixing runs across the snow towards Yifan instead of escaping when he could. He's almost powerless to push Yixing away, though, when Yixing finally makes his way to Yifan's side and scoops Yifan into his lap, embracing Yifan while sobbing brokenly.

"You could have ran away. Why didn't you?" Yifan gasps, staring up at Yixing's tearful eyes. Even then, he thinks Yixing's the most beautiful person he's had the fortune of meeting. 

Yixing shakes his head vehemently, the tears still flowing in a continuous cascade down his cheeks. Yifan can see the way Yixing's white _changshan_ is getting stained stark red with Yifan's blood, and he realises belatedly how badly he's been hurt. "I couldn't. Not without you. I promised. _You_ promised, so please, don't die–"

Yifan reaches up to caress Yixing's cheek with a soft smile on his lips. His vision is wavering by then, each intake of breath getting more laboured, and he knows, then, than he doesn't have much long to live. Still, there's nothing else Yifan wishes for, than to die in Yixing's arms. He'd expected this to happen, one way or another. "It's too late, Xing. But remember this–" He coughs, hacks when the cold air assaults his failing lungs, feeling a trickle of blood dribble down the corner of his mouth. Yixing sobs as he wipes furiously at Yifan's mouth with his sleeve, trying hard to erase all hints that Yifan's life is nearing the end. It doesn't work. Yifan smiles again. "–I love you, and I will never love anyone else but you. I can no longer pledge to spend this life with you, but I promise you, if there is ever a possibility of reincarnation, then I _will_ find my way back to you, no matter what it takes."

"Okay," Yixing nods, swooping down to kiss Yifan on the lips over and over again, already beyond the point of caring that there are a group of soldiers around them, watching their every move. "I promise you, too, that I will not love anyone else but you – not this life, nor the next – until we are together again. I love you, I love you, _I love you_ –"

Yixing's promise is all that Yifan needs, and there's still a smile on his face as the last of his consciousness slips out between the crevices of his fingers, letting death drag him to its murkiest depths. The last thing that registers in Yifan's senses, though, is the muffled words of Feifei's rage, and the sound of yet another gunshot reverberating through the air, as well as the warm liquid which splatters across his face.

And then, nothing.

 

╫

 

_kissing up on fences and up in walls  
on the way home  
I guess it's all working out, now_

 

It feels rather surreal as Zhang Yixing watches himself dance in the mirror, seeing the cloud-patterned blinds reflected behind him. It's familiar enough a scene to him, having watched countless amounts of practice videos of his favourite SM idols prior to this, and Yixing can't quite believe that he's _here_ , as an official trainee under SM Entertainment. It's a lifelong dream of his to be signed under a management company, considering his affinity for singing and dancing on stage from young, and it sometimes feels as though it's his destiny, to be in love with the performing arts. It's almost as though the music has been ingrained in his very soul, carrying him away to another dimension from the very first beat.

Yixing would sometimes wonder if he had loved performing in his past life, too, if the concept of reincarnation even exists. It's a silly thought which Yixing has never talked about to anyone else, knowing they'd laugh at him for being silly, but it doesn't stop Yixing from dreaming and thinking about it. 

Yixing nearly stumbles in the middle of a spin, though, when he raises his gaze and finds someone watching him from the door. He's a hundred percent sure that he'd been alone barely ten minutes ago, and he hadn't heard anyone opening the door, either. The newcomer walks into the room just as Yixing bounds over to the stereo to stop the music from blaring from the speakers, though Yixing holds his breath – out of surprise, more than anything else – when he looks up and finds an extremely familiar face staring back down at him. He's seen this person somewhere before, he's sure, but where?

"Sorry," the boy says, smile shy but voice deep. "I was told by the other trainees – in very halting English but understandable, thank god – that I could find someone else who could speak Mandarin here. I'm guessing it's you?" He asks, and Yixing doesn't miss the way the boy's eyes rake down the length of his body, taking in the sight of Yixing.

All of a sudden, Yixing finds himself extremely underdressed in his white, worn-out tank top and sweat pants, when the other boy is dressed to the nines in a sleek black dress shirt and fitting jeans. His legs seem to go on forever, and Yixing wonders if the boy's here to be polished into a model under the entertainment label. He looks the part, at least.

And _then_ the recognition hits when their gazes lock once again, and more genuine, warmer smiles are on their faces in an instant when they can both feel the unknown gap in their hearts being filled with a sense of nostalgia. Yixing _knows_ this person, a man whose face is a recurrent feature in his dreams, and he remembers the times when he'd have his face painted in contrasting hues of white and pink, and the way this boy had looked at him when they'd first met, full of admiration and something _more_.

Yixing can feel the way a smile is threatening to split his face apart as he holds out his hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he says, "You've got the right place, alright. My name is Zhang Yixing."

The boy's warmth feels all too familiar against his palm when he reaches forward to shake Yixing's hand, even though it's their first meeting in this lifetime of theirs, and the smile on his face is equally broad.

"I'm Wu Yifan, and I've really missed you so, so much." The words might probably sound odd to the ears of others, especially considering the fact that they've supposedly never met, but Yixing understands just what the boy means, because he feels exactly the same, chest warm and full and just so _right_. 

And when Yifan finally pulls Yixing into his arms and plants a soft, chaste kiss on his lips, Yixing can't help but wonder if there'll be a lifetime of his when he won't be attracted to Yifan as much as he is now, but he's sure that's not happening this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary:
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> \- jingju (京剧) - Peking opera (for more detailed reading, [click here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peking_opera))  
> \- dan (旦) - describes any female character in the opera  
> \- sheng (生) - any male character in the opera  
> \- xianggong tangzi (相公堂子) - basically a brothel where men paid money to have sex with young boys dressed as females  
> \- changshan/qipao - traditional Chinese costumes, you can ask uncle google to have a better idea~  
> \- Yuyuan (豫园) - an extensive Chinese garden in the Old City of Shanghai ([click!](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yu_Garden))  
> \- four noble plants of china - chrysanthemum, bamboo, plum blossom, orchid  
> \- douhua (豆花) - basically soybean pudding in sugar syrup and _the_ best thing ever. Do have a taste of it if you ever come across one! 
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> Xiche is Heechul, in case you're not able to guess.  
> If you'd like a better idea of how the makeup is done for a _dan_ in the Peking Opera, you can watch [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-6XXM_Becw) video~


End file.
